None Shall Rival
by StarkWolf95
Summary: Roderick Snow is a bastard. He had spent his whole life amongst the Wolves of Winterfell, they had been the only family he had ever known. Now He is a man grown, Winter is here and the King in the North needs all the help he can get. Determined to help, He must embark on a journey to his past to discover his heritage. Can he realise his true potential before the Long Night falls?
1. Chapter 1

Authors note

Hey guys,

Some of you may have read the beginning chapters of my first fanfic The Lost Sons of the North. As I began to plan further into the story I had started to become totally wrapped up in one oc in particular. I decided to scrap the original story so that I could focus on expanding the great ideas I have for this character instead.

You may notice some similarities between the two if you had taken the time to read through my first story.

I would like to apologise to those of you who had enjoyed the makings of Lost Sons.

Finally I would like to Thank you all for taking time to check it out and I hope you guys enjoy my story.

All Reviews, Follows and Favourites are welcome and much appreciated.

**Disclaimer**

I would like to make it clear that I do not claim any form of ownership over the the Realm of Westeros. Most of the characters, with the exception of a handful of oc's are the lawful property of George RR Martin and his team.

* * *

Prologue

278 AL

The great houses of the North had come together to attend the Great Tourney of Barrowton held in honour of the first nameday of Lord Willam Dustin's first born son.

It was a pleasant Summers day, the climate had always been more favourable in the Barrowlands than the lands further north. The steady stream of guests had begun to arrive at Dawn and by midday the town had become overrun with swarms of people.

Lady Barbery Dustin looked out from the Balcony overlooking the vast courtyard of Barrow Hall which had been reserved for the high Lords and Ladies.

The courtyard had become a sea of colour, The banners of Lord Willam's many allies flapped proudly in the light breeze. She surveyed each one closely. Slowly she began to identify the names of each house as her fathers Grey Rat had taught her as a child.

First the obvious ones, the Golden Horse head of House Ryswell, her fathers house. Next was the Flayed Man of House Bolton which had become the Sigil of her older sister, Beth.

Followed by the Fist of House Glover, the Great Bear of House Mormont and Three Sentinels of House Tallhart.

Next she spotted the Moose of House Hornwood ,the Merman of House Manderly and the glowing Winter Sun of House Karstark. Finally the Chains of House Umber and the Lizard-Lion of House Reed. Barbery knew this was not all that would attend the events of the day. Lord Stout was also hosting the Lords and Ladies of many of the less prominent northern houses at Goldgrass.

Last to arrive were the Starks of Winterfell. The recent tensions between the two houses had caused the Dustin soldiers lining the perimeter of the courtyard stand to attention as the huge procession thundered into the courtyard astride their towering war horses. Barbery had counselled her husband against a show of force in the Starks presence, but he was a proud stubborn man, instead of taking her advice he had doubled the guard.

They were led by their heir, the Wild Wolf and his newly promised Catelyn Tully of was accompanied by her uncle the famous Black Fish. She recognised the Black Trout Sigil on his breastplate instantly from the stories.

They were followed closely by Noble Ned, Breathtaking Lyanna, and Lork Rickard's fourth born son, Kian Stark. Benjen was absent but Barbery soon recalled that there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.

The Wild Wolf glanced up to the balcony where she was standing as he dismounted his horse. Their eyes met for a moment but quickly she darted from his view.

He was the one Lord she had hoped would not attend the festivities. She had grown to love Willam greatly, but she had never lost the deep lust for the Great Lord who had taken her Maidenhead.

Her thoughts were soon interrupted as Grayce her Wet Nurse, announced the arrival of her father, Lord Rodrik Ryswell. Lord Rodrik was a short slender man like many of the Horse Lords of the Rills before him.

He had a welcoming face . His eyes resembled the colour of Honey. His hair was a dark shade of auburn which he wore in a ponytail that spread down his back onto his billowing black cloak. He had pinned the fine cloak with the Great Golden Stallion brooch that had been in there family for generations.

At his hip she spotted the Amber stone pommel of another family heirloom. The Valyrian Steel short sword, Destiny. He greeted her with a warm embrace.

"Where is the boy?" he questioned

Barbery gestured towards the door to her of young sons chambers.

Lord Rodrik crossed the room and looked down on the bundle Infront of him. The boy had awoken now, Rodrik poked his index finger into the cot and the child reached out, wrapping his tiny hands around the Lords finger.

"A tight grip" said Lord Rodrik in astonishment as he marvelled at his second born grandchild. "This one would make a fine Horse Lord some day". Lady Barbery gave her father a disapproving look but he didn't seem to notice, after a while he spoke again.

" The whole North have gathered, Some of these men have travelled for days through treacherous conditions so that they could be here today" he spoke solemnly."It is time my daughter" he offered his hand and she took it in hers.

"I will be glad when this is all over" she replied softly.

Her father gestured for Grayce to bring the child and together they set off towards The Great Hall.

As they entered the hall the music instantly grew silent and all eyes turned to face them. They were greeted by her husband.

Willam Dustin was a very handsome man. He stood over 6 foot tall and had short cropped hair that was as black as coal. Rough black stubble covered his cheeks and He had slightly pointed features with prominent cheekbones. His eyes were a glistening Silvery Grey, a feature her boy had inherited.

He was expected to compete in the tourney so he was wearing a glorious suit of steel armour, The crossed long axes of house Dustin were emblazoned on the centre of the breastplate in rose gold. At his hip was a modest steel sabre, His families ancient blade had dissapeared into history long ago. Now the blade was just a myth amongst the small folk of the Barrowlands.

He took the child from the Wet Nurses arms and turned towards the crowd of high born men and women before him, all eyes were on the bundle in his arms.

"My Lords and Ladies. We welcome you into our home" he spoke proudly" And now I would introduce you to my heir, he held the boy up for the crowd to see.

" I name him Roderick. After his great ancestor, Roddy the Ruin."

The Dustin men in the room let out a Roar and recited the ancient words of their House.

"None shall Rival!".

Barbery instantly approved the name as it also resembled her Lord father's. The Northern lords lined up to pay their respects.

First was Lord Rickard, the Warden of the North. He looked down at the boy for a long while. A deep look of concentration crossed his face as he looked down on the boy. He didn't say a word. Barbery could sense tension between him and her husband.

House Dustin were rumoured to be descended from the First King of the First Men. This has made them too proud and arrogant through the ages. Willam was certainly no exception.

Since the birth of his son he had begun conscripting vast numbers of able bodied men and boys from Barrowton and the surrounding villages to the Dustin army. Barbery knew Lord Rickard was no fool, he had been watching their movements.

Eventually he stepped aside to make way for his children to pay his respects.

Before long the ceremony was over and the procession had headed to the banks of Western river that flowed towards the Saltspear. A large tourney area had been erected there where the strongest warriors of the north would test their skills.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Unsurprisingly the Wild Wolf had emerged the victor and he boasted unbearably as they sat at the table to feast. The night grew late and soon most of the lords and ladies had been shown to quarters within the keeps vast halls. Only Barbery, Lord Dustin, Lord Ryswell and Lord Stark remained.

After a long awkward silence Rickard looked at Willam and began to speak.

"For centuries Starks and Dustin's have argued over pride."

Willam nodded.

"What of it?" He replied sharply.

"I would see an end to the petty squabbles. The North must stand united if the rumours in the south are to be belie-"

"House Dustin has bent the knee to no man in centuries and our people prospered, why would we change that now my Lord?" Interrupted Willam sharply.

"I Don't ask you to bend the knee my lord, instead I offer a proposal"

everyone leaned in listening closely

" Did you ever hear the story of how Roddy the Ruin came to serve Winterfell?" Asked Rickard but he didn't wait for a response, he continued instantly.

My father told me when I was a boy. He said our houses were at war. 5 years the war had lasted, the North was divided and every prominent house had sustained huge losses so the Lord's of House Stark and House Dustin reluctantly came together to arrange a peace."

He paused to drain his cup of ale but soon he continued to speak.

"Neither side trusted the other. The talks lasted a fortnight. After much deliberation they settled on an agreement. A son from each great house would be exchanged to be raised as wards so that neither side would dare to raise a hand against the other again."

"So on his first name day Roddy had been sent to Winterfell in return for Logan Stark. The war had come to an end and Roddy prospered in Winterfell. He grew up alongside Cregan Stark and when Cregan was named Lord of Winterfell, He made Roddy Captain of the Guard.

After years of service Cregan named him Lord of the Barrowlands after the death of his father and allowed him to return to Barrow Hall. Roddy remained loyal to the Starks and House Dustin became our greatest allies... For a time".

"What does that have to do with your proposition?" Demanded Willam impatiently.

Roderick didn't reply instead He wrapped his knuckles 3 times against the table.

The servants entrance burst open and in streamed four dozen Stark soldiers, Some surrounded the table and the rest set about disarming the Dustin Guards and beating them into submission.

Lord Willam reached for his sword but Barbery reached out to still his hand, her husband was and accomplished swordsman, but she knew he stood no chance against fourty eight of the Starks finest men, Even the Sword of the Morning wouldn't stand a chance against such odds she thought to herself.

"What is the meaning of this?" He demanded "You would violate me in my own home!" His face was a bright shade of red and he shook as he spoke.

"You have been a very busy man Lord Dustin. Did you really think I came all the way here for your pitiful tourney?" Willam remained silent but Rickard snickered and continued anyway.

"Just 3 days ago a farmer sent word to Winterfell. The man spoke of a huge force of mounted Spear Men and Axemen wearing yellow tunics. Their banners displayed Rusted crossed Long axes on a yellow background he said they were marching southward".

Barbery glared at her husband, he hadn't mentioned this to her.

"Imagine my suprise when Only hours later a Raven arrived, what news do you think that Raven bared Lord Willam?"

Lord Willam stood and spoke proudly.

"I would imagine the Raven bared the news of the Extinction of Clan Thorne at the hands of my elite guard my Lord. They had been pushing their luck for years" Willam gloated.

"As have you!" Rickard yelled at the top of his voice "Clan Thorne have been sworn to my house since I was a boy, I am their liege Lord, An attack against them is an attack against me".

Suddenly the graveness of the situation dawned on Barbery. She knew Lord Rickard had come to Barrowton to administer punishment on her defiant House.

She wondered how many of the Lords and Ladies they sheltered were aware of the plan. Suddenly Rickard turned to leave the Hall and his soldiers followed, as he reached the door he turned and spoke.

"I would see History repeat itself. Your son will accompany me to Winterfell in the morning. I will raise him as my Ward. When he is old enough he will serve as Ned's squire. Soon Brandon shall be married. Should he father a daughter, She will be Wed to your boy" he demanded. "In return I shall leave my son Kian in your custody."

Lord Willam sat back in his chair with a grim look on his face.

"Do I have a say in this? " he asked but he already knew the answer.

"Look around you Lord Dustin and decide For yourself. This is for your own good, House Dustin and House Stark will reunite once more and we shall see an end to this madness"replied Rickard sternly.

He bowed his head, Clearly defeated. And the Starks departed from the Hall.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER ONE

289 AL

Training had been much more eventful than usual that day. Since Ned had called the Banners, many Northern lords had arrived in Winterfell bringing with them their Knights and more importantly, the Knights squires.

Ser Rodrik Cassell had invited the boys to join them for the session. They had been eager to accept and Roderick relished the new challenge.

The boys had lined up to face him. He dispatched the group of young high born sons in seconds, one by one with his wooden practise sword, leaving them sprawling in the dirt completely humiliated.

Once training had ended for the day Roderick made a beeline towards the Stables of Winterfell.

He was a reclusive boy who had always enjoyed the company of the horses more than the people so he spent as much time as possible in the Stables settled down on a large bail of hay in one of the vacant stalls, soon he had drifted into a deep slumber.

Suddenly he was awoken by the repeated screams of the Stable Boy.

"Hodor! Hodor! HODOR!"

Roderick pulled himself to his feet urgently and darted out of the Stall towards to the source of the noise. Before long he found the simple Stable Boy curled in a ball on the floor of one of the stalls, A large towering man and four others stood over him.

They all wore the same sigil on their Crimson red tunics, Four silver chains linked by a central ring.

The largest of them had to be atleast five years his senior. He had a short grizzly black beard and fierce chestnut brown eyes and his companions looked like weak boys. Although Rodrik was a large boy for his young age of twelve, He looked like a dwarf next to this man.

Thep scrawny boys kicked Hodor while the large man was striking him with the whip that the Simpleton used to tame the Steeds. They laughed uncontrollably as the defenceless man cried out for help.

He had never felt any love towards Hodor, but what these men were doing in front of his very eyes was unforgivable.

"Leave him be... NOW!" He demanded . Fury bubbled in the pit of his stomach.

He instantly began to examine them for signs of weakness as Ser Rodrik had taught him.

The group of boys turned to face him but the large man ignored him completely. The man repeatedly lashed the Stable boy with brutal force.

Unable to control himself, Rodrick charged into the stall towards the closest of the boys. He clattered into the boy with his shoulder, sending him sprawling face first into a fresh pile of horse shit.

He grabbed the next closest boy and sunk his knee into the boys ribcage, he felt the bones crunch on contact causing the boy the fall to the ground and whail in pain. In an instant he was onto his next target, He beat the poor boys head repeatedly against the wooden stall divider until he was bloody. He turned to face the fourth boy but he soon noticed the boy had fled from the stables in terror.

Now only the hulking man remained. He dropped the whip and ran towards Roderick. He dived to the side quickly evading the large man that resembled a charging Bull. The man charged again and again Roderick evaded him.

He examined the mans posture, searching for an opening to break his defences.a third charge came... And then Roderick spotted it.

The man was travelling with a slight limp to his right leg. That was all the information he needed. He charged and Roderick dived, only this time he left a lingering foot behind. He tripped the Man who flopped to the ground. He spotted a chance and he seized it. He set about disabling the already damaged leg. He stomped repeatedly, shattering the mans kneecap.

Still he fought, he grabbed hold of Rodericks ankle and yanked him down to the ground. They rolled around in the mud together , wrestling and trading blows. After much struggle Roderick pinned the large man down, restraining him. He struck the beastly man repeatedly to the head and the man fell still, but he continued to drive his fists into his large swollen face.

A bellowing voice echoed out across the stable, Bouncing off the wooden walls causing Roderick to freeze.

"You have got some bloody big balls lad" He turned to look towards the source. A true giant of a man was taking huge strides towards him.

The man stood over 7 feet tall,was heavily muscled and had a lordly presence about him. He had a proud face and similar fierce brown eyes to the man who lay motionless underneath him. At his hip was the huge Great Sword. It was unlike anything Roderick had ever seen bigger even than the ancestral Sword of House Stark, Ice. He struggled to believe how any man could wield such a sword.

Soon he was upon them. He looked down at them and spoke.

"Look at the state of him, His fat face looks like a piece of pork" He roared in laughter. "The proud unrivalled Smalljon Umber beaten to a pulp by a Boy half his size... I am impressed. You have earned my respect. What is your name boy?"

"Roderick Snow my Lord" He replied sheepishly. The man stared at him deeply with a look of recognition on his face after the long pause he spoke.

"Snow aye? A bloody outrage if you ask me"

"Aye Snow my lord. I'm a lowborn bastard who has no fa-"

"I know who you are boy!"

Roderick didn't reply. He had no idea what the man could have meant. A million thoughts raced through his head each more unlikely than the rest. Thankfully the man didn't press the subject instead he looked back down to the man he had called Smalljon.

"He was to March at Ned's side along with Jorah Mormont to Moat Cailin in the morning and from their on to the Iron Islands.

It is customary that the heirs of Two great Northern Houses must ride at the sides of the Lord of Winterfell in times of war"

Roderick stared at the man with a puzzled look on his face. He was unsure why the man was telling him this. He had always dreamed of riding to war at Ned's side but he knew a lowly bastard like him could never hold such an honour.

"Come lad. We must inform Lord Ned of this violent outburst of an 'Unrivalled' boy"

The Large Lord had Roderick direct them towards Ned's Solar. Soon they came to the large wooden door where two guards stood. One guard entered the room to announce their arrival.

"The Lord Greatjon Umber of Last Hearth"

"Enter" he heard Ned call out in the distance. The man laid his large bucket sized hand on Rodericks shoulder and led him into the room.

Lord Stark was sat at a table underneath the Window. At his side sat Lady Catelyn, a look of suprise crossed her eye as she saw him , although she tried to hide it. Lady Catelyn had always been kind and loving towards Roderick, she was the closest thing he had to a mother.

She shot the Greatjon a fierce glance.

"What is the meaning of this? Take your hand off that boy my Lord". She demanded in a tone he had rarely heard her Greatjon removed his hand instantly

" forgive me my lady. I mean this boy no harm, Besides I think this one is more than capable of defending himself"

All eyes turned to Roderick and soon Ned spoke.

"What the bloody hell have you done this child, he is a mess!" The Greatjon piped up instantly is response.

"Maybe you should make a visit to your Stables, you will find the heir to Last Hearth beaten half to death at the hands of this boy". Ned's face dropped and he turned to face Roderick.

"Nonsense. The Smalljon is twice this boys size and almost three times his weight" Lady Catelyn argued in his defence.

"Yet there he lies, and here this one stands." He responded.

"What happened?" Lady Catelyn asked. And soon Roderick found words in response.

"They were hurting Hodor. I just wanted to hel-"

Ned cut in instantly interrupting him

"I have seen the stable boy just before you got here. He with Maester Lewin. he was delirious and covered from head to toe in deep lashes. If that was your sons doing, My lord then he deserves everything that he got"

"What would you have us to with the boy?" Asked Lady Catelyn harshly.

"I would have him replace my son at your side tomorrow"

"He is just a boy!" Ned replied instantly

"And how many Men do you have in your army that could pick apart the Heir of Last Hearth in fist fight?"

No response came as Neither Lord or Lady could argue with that fact.

After much discussion Ned and Catelyn had been persuaded. Ned stood and walked over to Roderick.

"You remember the words Maester Lewin taught you lad?"

"Aye" he replied. He could never forget. It had been his life's dream to recite the words some day.

"Then kneel and "

He sank to his knees in disbelief, his dream was finally about to come true. He stared up at the Great Lord in front of him. He began to speak the words as the had done often in his dreams.

"I offer my service to you Eddard Stark of Winterfell. I will shield your back and keep your counsel,and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new."

The words came easy and seemed to flow out of Rodericks mouth as he admired the Great Lord In front of him. Everything else was irrelevant in that moment. When he had finished Eddard approached and looked upon his new soldier with pride. And then he spoke.

" And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that will bring you dishonour. I swear it by the old gods and the new " The words touched Roderick and he felt a tear well up in the corner of his eye. He knew Ned meant every word.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER TWO

289 AL

That night Ned had shown him to his own quarters within the same wing as the young Stark children. They were modest quarters with basic furnishing. On one side of the room was a feather bunk bed, piled high with animal furs. At the foot of the bed a large coal fire flickered, filling the room with a warm orange glow. On the opposite side of the room a tall Mahogany wardrobe stood to the ceiling. Under the window their was small dressing table, complete with mirror and stool. The Grey Wolf sigil of House Stark draped the walls in various places.

Lady Catelyn's hand maidens had placed a large wooden tub in the centre of the room, filled to the the brim with steaming hot water from the iron cauldron which hung over the fire. On the dresser they had laid out a selection of fine made clothing.

It had been weeks since Roderick had last bathed so he removed his blood splattered clothing and climbed into the tub, the steam billowed around him as he began to wash the blood from his hands and face. His face was tender in places, and the skin on his knuckles was torn, causing him to wince with pain as he cleaned his throbbing wounds.

He stayed there in the warm waters until his fingertips grew wrinkled. Once the steam had faded and the waters grew cool, Roderick climbed out of the tub.

He was fully aware of where he was going in the morning and he had no idea how long it would be until he would bathe again. A strange feeling came over him as he thought on his predicament. He wasn't sure whether he was utterly terrified or filled with excitement, maybe both. Either way in the morning he, a bastard boy would sail at Lord Eddard's side into battle against the Iron Born to see the 'Kraken' bend the knee.

Roderick knew little of them besides that they lived on a desolate pile of rocks in the middle of the Sea to the West of Cape Kraken. He had heard stories throughout his childhood of ruthless Krakens rising from the sea to devour Northern sea side villages whole but he had never believed them.

Roderick slept like a baby that night. He woke to a knock at his door. Light spilled into the room from the nearby window. Morning had come.

"One moment" he called into the distance. He raised himself from his bed and quickly dressed in a white cotton shirt and a pair of brown leather breeches that were folded neatly on the dresser.

He swept across the room to the door and unbolted the lock, the door creaked as it swung open.

On the other side stood Lady Catelyn, in her arms she held a large pile of parcels. She struggled under the weight so Roderick quickly moved to relieve her of them. He welcomed her into the room and gestured for her to sit on the stool in front of his dresser. She obliged and he set the parcels down upon his Bed.

"To what do I owe the honour, my lady?"he asked as he looked across at her.

She pointed towards the parcels on the bed.

"You didn't think i would send my little soldier into battle unarmed and unarmored did you?" She gave him a reassuring smile which instantly filled him with comfort.

"I had poor Mikken and the Tailor working through the night, Take a look"

He unfolded the largest of the parcels first. Inside he found a hauberk made of fine steel chain mail, it was smaller than any he had seen before befitting of his slender frame. He slowly began to unfold the remaining parcels. In the next he found a padded black leather coat in laid with many straps and matching breeches. Followed by steel plate vambraces and greaves,Black leather knee high boots, gloves and belt and also a large black cloak lined with fine furs.

Finally he came to the last parcel, it was long and thin. He unfolded the cloth wrapping to unveil the hilt of a sword, the pommel was beset with a large yellow gem stone. He stared in amazement, he had always wanted his own sword. He continued to unwrap the rest of the parcel. The blade was concealed in a boiled leather scabbard.

"May I?" He asked cautiously

Lady Catelyn nodded and he drew the blade. The blade was remarkably light. The steel shimmered in the light, clearly fresh forged. On the base of the blade Roderick noticed the mark that Mikken carved into all of his works, but beside it was another Mark. It seemed to resemble a crown set above two crossed poleaxes . He felt that he should know this sign, he racked his brains but no answer came. Instead he marvelled at the sword.

" it's Beautiful... I name it Bloodlust."

"A fine name. You should dress quickly, Ned is waiting for you. I will wait outside" called Lady Catelyn. She was stood by the door now. He sheathed his sword and she departed from the room.

He began to dress in his new armour. He was amazed how well everything fit him. He attached Bloodlust to his belt and lifted the cloak from the bed, as the cloak unfurled, a small red silk pouch slipped onto the floor. He knelt to pick it up, he soon realised the bag had some weight to it. He pulled open the draw strings and emptied the contents.

Inside he found a large Bronze pin. It was shaped in the familiar crossed Pole axes that had been etched into the blade of his sword. Still he had no idea what the symbol stood for. He didn't own any other pins so he used it to fasten the billowing cloak in place.

He stopped to glance in the mirror for a moment and he barely recognised himself. He didn't linger. He knew it would not do to keep his Lord waiting.

He found Lady Catelyn in the corridor outside.

"You look very handsome" she teased.

"How could I ever repay you for your generosity my Lady" he relied sheepishly.

"You can repay me by bringing my Husband home alive"

He nodded and together they turned to head towards the courtyard.

The courtyard was alive with movement as the Northern force mobilised. On rough estimate Roderick counted 500 Stark Men, 300 Umbers and 150 each of , Bolton, Karstark and Mormont soldiers. They would meet with the rest of the army at various points along the Kings Road on route to Moat Cailin.

They found Ned near the gates to Winterfell. He was in deep discussions with the Giant man from the night before, A younger man that Roderick recognised as The Lord of the Dreadfort, Roose Bolton and an elderly battle scarred warrior who Roderick did not recognise.

They stopped talking as Lady Catelyn and Roderick approached.

All four men studied Roderick intently in his new suit of armour.

"My Lords" he nodded towards each man. As he made eye contact with Ned he spotted what looked like a tear in the corner of his eye finally he spoke.

"You look just like him" his words were quiet and hard to make out over the noise around them, Roderick was unsure if he had heard correct. The Greatjon clapped him on his shoulder with his bucket sized hand and gave him a warm proud smile.

Lord Bolton looked him up and down with a cold calculated stare. His pale grey eyes paused on the crossed pole axe pin at Roderick's chest. He didn't speak but Roderick could still feel his gaze burning into his chest as he turned he turned to adress the other man.

To Rodericks amazement the man fell down to his knees before him.

"My Lord" he uttered.

Ned and Catelyn both shot the man a disapproving stare and Ned demanded that he get to his feet.

Roderick just assumed that the man was mad. Why would he think He was a Lord he asked himself. He was just a Bastard. Perhaps he had mistook him for Ned's firstborn son, young Robb.

Eventually Ned sent Roderick to the Stables to collect a horse of his own. Although he had spent much time in the company of them as a boy he had never ridden one. As he entered the Stables, he spotted Hodor brushing a small black mare.

"Hodor... Lord Ned se-"

Before Roderick could finished the Large stable boy had dropped his brush and was charging towards him. He bent to wrap his arms around Roderick in tight embrace. He stood up straight lifting Roderick from his feet. The man was filled with joy and he danced around the room with Roderick in his arms.

"Hodor, Hodor, Hodor" the Stable boy repeated as he danced and Roderick laughed uncontrollably in the gentle giants arms. Soon he set Roderick down and he began to finish his request.

"Lord Stark has sent me to collect my horse".

Hodor nodded in approval and he ran towards the back of the stables and out of sight but Roderick could still hear his persistent calls.

"Hodor, Hodor, Hodor".

Soon he reappeared holding the rains of a tall proud patchy grey war horse with a long black mane.

"Hodor" the Stable boy gestured for towards the saddle which was already tied to the horses back.

"Hodor, Hodor"

He picked Roderick up by his waist with ease and placed him on the horses back. Roderick took hold of the reigns, a million butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

"Hodor"

Hodor slapped the horses Hind leg and the horse took off, thundering into the courtyard at great speed despite the young bastards protests that sat perched on its back.


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER THREE

289 AL

The Northern armies numbers had risen to around two thousand men in the ten day March along the Kings Road. Small bands of men from many of the less prominent Houses and Clans in the North East had merged with them frequently but Roderick had noticed few came from the West. To his knowledge it seemed that so far House Glover, House Tallhart and House Ryswell and all of those sworn to them had refused the call.

Roderick had soon become frustrated with the slow marching pace of the common foot soldiers. Their blood thirst had been contagious, Making him eager for the battle to come. He had spent the whole ten days at the rear of the force, trotting slowly at Lord Stark's right hand side. He was greatly relieved when Ned gestured to him to ride ahead. He didn't need to be asked twice, Roderick yanked the reigns of his patchy grey steed. The Beast reared slightly and began to gallop along the edge of the road at eye watering pace. Lord Stark gave chase closely pursued by his appointed left Jorah Mormont.

Soon they had left the army long behind. They had curved their path Westward leaving the road behind in favour of the vast green fields. The three of them rode side by side for what seemed like hours. They came to the foot of a steep grassy hill and brought their horses to a standstill. Ned turned to them and spoke.

"We should head ba-"

Before he could finish, Roderick tugged roughly on his reigns forcing his horse onward. It didn't take long for the powerful creature to reach the top of the hill.

Roderick dismounted his horse and began to scan the Landscape from his vantage point. The sun was quickly setting over Row upon Row of the glowing golden cornfields and rolling plaines that stretched to the horizon in the west. In the distance Roderick could make out what looked like a giant hill, almost twice the Size of the one he stood on now. It was conveniently positioned between two rivers. The base of the hill was surrounded by tall walls and Atop the hill sat a massive castle with large square towers which spanned the entire peak.

It was a charming place. A strange feeling came over him, he almost felt at home in this place. It was a feeling which he had never experienced in Winterfell. Roderick's thoughts were soon interrupted as Ned dismounted his horse next to him.

"My Lord, There is a Town in the distance. We should travel there to rest and replenish our supplies" said Roderick trying to mimic the tone of authority that he had heard Jorah often use when addressing Lord Stark.

"Me, Jorah and my army are not welcome there lad" Ned responded instantly. A pang of jealously shot through him as he realised Ned had taken time to name Jorah personally but not him. However he hadn't dared to mention it.

"You are the Warden in the North my Lord, you go where you please"

Ned laughed softly and responded.

"If only it was that simple. That title means little in the Barrowlands"

"Then they are all traitors" spat Roderick in response.

A voice called out from behind them. Roderick soon recognised it was Jorah.

"No. I have heard it said that the fierce loyalty of the people of the Barrowlands towards their Liege Lord is unrivalled anywhere else in the North" he paused but soon he began to speak again.

"However House Stark is not that Liege Lord"

"Aye" Ned agreed. "They are a proud people who are famed for the grudges they hold. Since the end of the rebellion they have lost their way. They would sooner see Mine and Jorah's heads decorating their walls than see us feasting in their halls".

Again Ned had mentioned Jorah personally and ignored him. Roderick hadn't failed to notice and a tight knot had begun to form in the pit of his stomach, as it often did when he grew jealous.

Although he was a low born bastard he had considered himself equal to Jorah in the service of Lord Stark... Until now.

The thought clouded his judgement leaving him feeling unworthy. Roderick turned his back on the two men, and began to mount his horse.

"And what of me?" He called to the two bewildered men. Before either could respond, He yanked the reigns and departed alone riding into the gathering night.

It had been another 4 day March until the Northern army had reached the muddy banks of the Fever River. A motley selection of thirteen ships were docked along the eastern bank where a makeshift port had been erected. The White Merman banner of House Manderley lined the port, flying from tall flagpoles. Beyond the port were a small cluster of tents. Ned signalled for the army to come to a halt and he gestured towards Lord Greatjon Umber, Lord Roose Bolton and Lord Rickard Karstark to join him. Together the group of five men and one boy trotted towards the Manderley camp.

The Manderley soldiers gave them a warm reception as they approached. Roderick counted roughly three hundred men. Some cheered while others shouted warm compliments. They where directed towards a tall white tent in the centre of the camp. Inside the tent two men in lavish armour stood at a table in deep discussions. Across the table Roderick noticed a large map with various wooden figurines resembling castles, soldiers, ships and siege engines dotted around the western coast.

The guard who accompanied them began to announce their presence.

"Lord Eddard Stark, Warden in North and Lord of Winterfell, Lord Rickard Karstark, Lord of Karhold, Lord Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, Lord Greatjon Umber, Lord of Last Hearth" he paused as he looked at Roderick. He looked him up and down and his eyes fixed

on the pin at his chest, just as Roose had before him.

"And Lord Roderick Du-"

"Roderick Snow" Ned cut in before the man could finish his announcement.

"Where is Lord Wyman?" Asked Lord Bolton. This was the first time Roderick had heard the young man speak and he noticed that his tone was as cold and unforgiving as his stare.

The two men looked up from the table. The first was a portly man. His round belly was wrapped in fine green scale armour and a long billowing green cloak hung from his muscled shoulders. He had a large round face with a bald head. The only hair Roderick could see on the man was a huge bushy moustache spread across his upper lip which was the colour of sand.

The other Man wore the fine glistening silver plated armour of a knight engraved with what looked like many plants and weeds. He was tall stout man. He had greying hair and beard to match his pale grey eyes which looked very similar to Roose Boltons. Under his arm the man held a glorious helm depicting the head of the Merling King.

Soon the knight responded.

"My Cousin couldn't make it. Instead he sent me, Ser Marlon Manderley Commander of the garrison at White Harbor"

"And me his second born son, Wendel Manderley." Spoke the man with the bushy moustache.

Ned nodded to both men and soon he began to address them.

"I'm sorry we have to meet under such circumstances but as is the way of war. I would hear your plans for getting us across this wretched sea".

The Lord's gathered around the table and Ser Marlon began to speak.

"We are here." he pointed to point on the map where a ship figurine stood. He began to move the figurine.

"We will sail the length of the fever river out on to the Saltspear and further still, on to blaze water bay. We hug the shoreline, past Flint's Finger's until we reach Cape Kraken. Here" Ser Marlon pointed to a mark on the map and took a large gulp from a goblet of wine and continued.

"From there we split, Lord Stark and his Left Hand Jorah Mormont will lead a force of three ships down here" he pushed the ship figure along the coast line.

"To Here"

He pointed to a section of shoreline.

"From there you will beach the ships and travel by foot to Seagard where the King and his Royal Fleet await your presence. I, along with the Right Hand young Roderick will take the rest of our fleet around here".

He arced another toy ship around the Western coast of the Iron Islands.

"We will anchor here. And await your signal to attack. I'm sure that the King has his own plans that he wishes to share with you first"

He pointed to a section of open water southwest of the island of Pyke.

When he had finished it was clear from the blank expressions that no man in the room had a better plan. They agreed to leave within the hour. Roderick would be sailing aboard the flagship, Winterwind alongside Ser Marlon and the Greatjon. It had been the first time he had been away from Eddard's side throughout the whole journey. He stood on the upper deck and watched as soldiers packed into the lower. He recognised the battle scarred man from Winterfell arguing with a Manderley soldier.

Roderick turned to the Greatjon and asked.

"Who is that man?"

"That is Seamus the Shamed" he replied gruffly "A mighty warrior once... OI YOU" the Greatjon called gesturing towards the Manderley guard.

"Let him aboard. He is with us"

The Manderley guard didn't object, he stepped aside to let the large man walk up the gang plank.

Roderick looked at the Greatjon with an uneasy look. He still believed this man to be totally mad.

"He may have his uses yet" replied the Greatjon proudly.

"The man is mad! He called me Lord" Roderick protested.

"He is far from it, The only mad man in that situation was Rickard Stark!"

Roderick stared at him with a puzzled look on his face. What did Ned's father have to do with anything he wondered, the man had died before he had grown to know him. The look on the Greatjons face clearly stated that he had already said too much. Roderick knew he wouldn't get anymore answers here, so he made his way to the lower deck, perhaps he might find answers there.

The ship had long since set sail when Roderick finally found who he was looking for. The man was huddled on the deck with the other soldiers, he looked miserable and green with sea sickness. Roderick sat across from him studying the man. He wore a full suit of rusted dull armour over his muscled form, which looked like it may have been glorious in its day. His face was heavily scarred and he had forest green eyes. His head was shaved bald but he had a long greying ginger beard, which he wore in a plait that fell to his waist. He had a long axe strapped across his back and on his chest plate Roderick could faintly make out a chevronny sigil in the colours of Russet and Gold.

Two young soldiers sat closeby, they too were looking at the man and whispering, Roderick leaned closer and he could faintly make out their words.

"Aye. He was a knight. They say he renounced his lands and titles, even his family name, Stout. When he returned from the Rebellion without Lord Dustin He disappeared soon after".

"Where did he go?" Asked the other soldier inquisitively.

"No one knows. Some of the men say he was waiting out in the Wolfswood for a Dustin heir to come of age so that his Lord might finally pass judgement on his failings".

That name seemed to ring in his ears 'Dustin'. Although he was certain he hadnt heard the name before, it felt as though he knew it.

Roderick stood and headed towards the pitiful man.

"Ser Seamus Stout?"

He called out as he reached the man.

"My Lord?" He replied sheepishly. He peered up at the boy in front of him.

"No Ser, I am just a bastard boy. You looked lonely from over there. I had been wondering if maybe you wanted some company?"

The man instantly gestured towards the bench next to him and Roderick sat.

"Very kind of you My Lord" he said as Roderick sat.

Roderick let out a sigh but then he remembered something Ned had once told him.

"A madman sees what a madman sees". The words had never held meaning before until now. So Roderick went along with it, he let the man call him Lord. They spent that whole night talking. He had forgotten the questions he had wished to ask. Instead he listened to the endless extravagant stories that Seamus told of great battles that he had fought against impossible odds . Roderick believed none of it, by this point he was certain that the man was utterly mad.


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER FOUR

289 AL

It was just before sunrise when the horn had sounded across the water from the scout ship ahead. The blazing sun had risen high into the sky by the time the fleet had caught site of Cape Kraken.

The sharp boulders along the coast were littered with remnants of many shipwrecks that had sunk and washed ashore through the ages. Some from battle but most from the fierce storms and unforgiving waters that the area was renowned for.

"Roddy, wake up"

The rumbling voice of the Greatjon awoke Roderick instantly. He had slept in his armour causing his whole body to ache and his head was heavy from the night before. A storm had come. Huge white water waves had battered the Winterwind for hours. The men aboard feared for their lives so Captain, Crew, Lords and Soldiers had all come together in the Captains Cabins to drink like it was their last night on this earth. Roderick alone had sunk enough wine to cause three grown men to feint that night.

He opened his eyes to see the giant towering over him. Suddenly he felt a burning sensation rising within his gut. He rolled over the edge of the mattress and sprayed vomit over the Greatjon's leather boots. To Roderick's surprise he roared in fits of laughter and eventually spoke with much restraint.

"I hope you can handle your women better than you handle your wine or you are well and truly fucked!".

Roderick let out a groan and rolled over as if to go back to sleep.

"On your feet lad. Captain requests the presence of 'Roddy Righthand' in his cabin... A bird from across the water".

Flash backs of the night before came to him. He recalled how Seamus had called him 'Roddy' in conversation. The men of the Winterwind had overheard and spent the next hour arguing amongst themselves upon a new alias for him. The Greatjon had argued that it should be 'Roddy the Right' and many of the men agreed simply out of fear for the man. However Ser Marlon Manderley had argued 'Roddy Righthand' as the new alias. Roderick was fond of both names, His whole life he had only been Roderick Snow, a nobody. To him anything was better than nothing. If he would never hold a proud historical family name, he would build a legacy of his own for people to remember him by.

He raised himself from the straw mattress reluctantly and strapped Bloodlust to his belt. As he looked down at his sword hand he noticed he was wearing a large golden ring on his pinky finger. He recalled that Seamus had given it to him as a gift while drunkenly swearing him his axe the night before. The face of the ring was deeply indented with the symbol of two crossed long axes, similar to the one on the pin Lady Catelyn had given him, except this one had a crown mounted above them.

He and the Greatjon departed the dingy room and walked the short distance towards the Captains Cabin. As Roderick strolled the deck the crew and soldiers affectionately greeted him with calls of their preferred choice of his new alias.

As they approached the door a guard wrapped his knuckles against the wood and began to announce their presence.

"Roddy the Right and Lord Greatjon Umber"

"Enter" called the familiar voice of the ship captain, Ser Marlon Manderley.

They stepped into the large room, much of the furniture was over turned and the floor was littered with empty wine flagons from the night before. A carved desk still stood at the back of the room where the captain sat alone, studying the map of Westeros laid out in front of him. As they approached he gestured for them to sit and held out his hand towards Roddy, between his thumb and his index finger he held a small roll of parchment. The note was addressed to him. He quickly unrolled the message and soon recognised the slanted hand of Lord Eddard scribbled in black ink.

Here we part.

I name you stand in commander of the fleet in my place.

Send word when you reach the Bay and await reply.

Stay strong and stay safe.

None shall Rival.

Lord Eddard Stark, Warden in the North

Roddy shook as he read the words. He could hardly believe what he was reading. Lord Stark had placed fourteen ships and almost twelve hundred Northmen under his command. He had never even been on a ship before now and had no experience leading men. His eyes lingered on the last three words, 'None shall Rival' He thought it strange as Lord Stark usually finished his notes with 'Winter is Coming' the words of his house. But these words were foreign to him but he felt they held significance.

After reading the note three times over Roddy handed it to the Greatjon. He knew that his new position would mean nothing unless the Lord approved. He squinted as he scanned the note, his expression was impossible to read, after a while he spoke.

"Respect is earned not given boy!" his tone was harsh. After a pause he continued.

"You earned my respect that day in The Winterfell Stables. The man who selflessly stands for the weak and defenceless is a man that House Umber would gladly follow!". That was all the support he needed. If the Men would not follow a bastard boy into battle, they would follow the Greatjon without question.

Night had fallen by the time the motley fleet had sailed upon the coast of Salt Cliffe. The waters had been clear and they had been unchallenged. Ser Marlon had guessed that the Iron Men had been beaten back behind the walls of their castle by the Royal Fleet. Roderick gave the order the anchor in shallow waters South West of the isle of Pike. Ser Marlon had drafted a note to Lord Stark informing him of their safe arrival. Afterwards he had the note presented to Roderick to sign and seal.

Roderick had pondered on what he should write for a long time as he sat at the Desk alone reading the note under candlelight. His old signature Roderick Snow would not do, He was not that boy anymore. He picked up gull feather quill and dipped it into the ink pot on the desk and began to write in tiny letters.

None Shall Rival.

Roddy the Right, Commander of the Northern fleet.

He rolled the parchment tight picked up the burning candle and dripped hot wax on the note securing it in place. He soon realised he had no seal to mark the message as Ned had with his dire wolf sigil, So instead Roderick pressed the ring that Seamus had given him into the bubbling wax leaving behind a perfect print of the foreign symbol. He had handed the note to Ser Marlon and the Bird had flown.

Roderick stood on the deck and watched as the Raven flapped North East towards Seagard soon it's dark plumage had blended into the night sky. He was certain Ned must have arrived by now. In the distant North he could make out the thick stone walls and tall watch towers that surrounded the city of Pyke. Thousands of tiny flames flickered on the Battlements. He thought to himself that it would be impossible to breach such defences. A mixture of fear and desperation gnawed at his stomach as he thought on the battle to come. He had grown impatient of waiting and was eager to prove himself in his new role.

His deep thoughts were interrupted after a long while by a tolling bell overhead.

"Ship Ahoy!"

A call came from the crows nest above.

Roderick scanned the distance for a sign of movement... And then he spotted it, a small fishing boat manned by only two men heading towards them, a bright fire blazed on the deck illuminating the surrounding night sky as it grew closer.

"Announce yourselves!" called Ser Marlon once the boat had floated within earshot.

A soft voice floated across the water in response.

"I am Thoros of Myr" Ser Marlon's face dropped as he recognised the name.

"State your business Red Wizard!" His tone was full of disgust as he spoke. Suddenly he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

"We bring orders from Lord Stark"

Ser Jorah had appeared next to the man.

"Put that bloody fire out!" Demanded the Greatjon "Do you want the whole Iron Islands to see us?"

"No my Lord" responded the man that Ser Marlon had called Red Wizard.

"The Lord of Light guides our way and shields us from the false sea demon which holds dominion over this place. Do we have permission to come aboard?".

"The last thing we need is a crazed fanat-" Roderick interrupted The Greatjon before he could finish his rant.

"Permission granted". He called. Next he turned to Ser Marlon and spoke.

"Toss them a rope and have them shown to your Quarters" Marlon nodded in response and relayed the orders to his crew. Soon after Roddy departed towards the cabin with the Greatjon and Ser Marlon in tow.

They had only been waiting a short while when there was a knock at the door and the guard began to speak.

"Jorah Mormont, Left Hand of Lord Eddard Stark and the Red Priest, Thoros of Myr, representative of King Robert Baratheon"

"Show them in" Roderick called in response. Thoros was first through the door, he was a tall and chubby with a bald head and welcoming face. He wore a fine chainmail shirt over his billowing red robes and he had a sword at his hip. He was unlike any priest Roderick had ever encountered. He was closely followed by Jorah. Roddy gestured for them to sit.

" Jorah what news from across the water?" He asked as soon as the man was seated.

"The siege will begin at dawn. We are to serve in the Front Line" he pointed to the map ahead of him.

"Siege ships have gathered here at the Crag. The bulk of the Royal Fleet is anchored here at Seagard. At dawn the Fleet will travel across the Iron Mans Bay towards the western shores of Pike to gain the Iron Men's attention, serving as distraction" he paused for a moment but soon he continued.

"In the meantime the siege ships will travel this straight and anchor here along the southern shore and begin to work on crumbling the defences. If the Iron Men are smart they will surely seek to send out raiding parties onto the beaches to destroy the siege ships once they spot them-"

Roderick suddenly cut him off mid speech.

"So we beach here." He pointed to a cove on the south coast of the island." We defend the ships until they have done their part, then we charge the breach, clearing a path for our Lord and King".

He spoke with a new found confidence causing every man around the table to stare in amazement at the young inexperienced boy dressed in glorious armour commanding battle strategy.

"Much of the same" uttered Jorah clearly shocked.

Once the final details had been agreed upon the men had left the cabin to prepare the soldiers. Roderick stepped out onto the deck and he looked out across the open seas.

"Are you afraid?" a cheery voice sounded behind him. He turned to see Thoros walking towards him.

He held out his hand infront to reveal his furious shakes.

"The Lord's flame burns brightly from within you, You have little to fear...You have R'hllor, the one true God at your back".

"What do you mean?" Roderick quizzed desperate for comforting answers.

Thoros gestured towards a torch that was burning in a brazier next to the door of the Cabin.

"Look into the fire and tell me what you see boy".

Roderick did as he was asked he stared into the flickering light intently, he saw nothing but dancing flames.

"Open your minds eye boy, expand your consciousness" whispered Thoros behind him.

Roderick closed his eyes for a moment and steadied his breathing. Once he was in a total state of calm he opened them again and suddenly he saw them. Visions flashing before his eyes. He saw war and death and darkness. When all was consumed a man dressed in shining golden armour and a billowing yellow cloak appeared wielding a flaming sword, and the darkness fled in terror before him.


	6. Chapter 6

CHAPTER FIVE

289 AL

Roderick had spent the entire night pondering what he had seen in the flames. The Red Priest had conducted a short ritual afterwards, building a small bonfire on the deck of the ship. He had sung many prayers to The Lord of Light and even began to bestow the Lords blessing upon the men of the Winterwind who had taken interest, Roderick included. The words still rung in his ears as though the priest had just recited them mere seconds ago.

" Lord cast your light upon this boy, your faithful servant. Join your flame to his and lend him your strength in the coming battle, for the night is dark and full of terrors."

Roderick had stood by the bonfire that whole night with Seamus at his side. The flickering flames warmed his skin as he waited impatiently, gazing out to the North for the signal. Many of the men were sleeping along the deck huddled together wrapped in furs. And then it sounded the rolling beat of war drums seemed to vibrate the sea around them. It was time.

The Winterwind was far too large to beach in the cove unnoticed so it had been planned that the two hundred soldiers aboard would cram onto the smaller vessels for the landing.

"Jorah, Lead the first of the men across. I shall stay here until every soldier has made the crossing" Roddy commanded and Jorah nodded instantly departing towards the lower deck. The row boats had been lowered and soon they were filled with soldiers crossing the short straight towards the rest of the fleet.

The Greatjon approached him. The hulking man was encased in thick steel armour from head to toe and his monstrous blade was strung across his back. In his hands he held a small round wooden shield baring the chained sigil of his house. As he approached he thrust the shield at Roddy and began to speak.

"I had this made for you lad. Since my son couldn't be here to bare my arms in this battle, I ask you to do me the honour of wielding this shield so that Lord Balon may know House Umber played their part in his downfall".

"It would be an honour my Lord" Roderick responded by which time the rowboats had returned from the Nearby fleet to gather more soldiers.

"Lord Umber, lead the next group of men across the water. When you board give the order for the Fleet to begin landing. Order one ship to stay behind for me and the stragglers." The Greatjon gave him a long concerned look but none the less he obeyed the command without argument.

By the time the Greatjon had set off across the straight only twenty Northmen remained aboard the Winterwind. The only one Roddy knew personally was Seamus the Shamed, the mad man.

The boats had landed and after a few minutes the fleet began to move into tight formation heading towards the southern shores of Pike. The fastest of the boats remained behind. An age seemed to pass before the row boats grew near once again. The fleet was some distance away now.

"All men aboard the boats. Quickly now!" called Roderick as the straggling soldiers scrambled towards the lower deck. However one member of the crew stood frozen. His eyes were fixed on the thick fog to the Northwest with a look of pure horror on his face. He began to point into the fog and stutter violently. His words were a panicked babble, difficult to make out but soon Roddy realised he was repeating the same two words over and over.

"Crows Eye, Crows Eye, Crows Eye"

Roddy felt it before he saw it. The whole ship shook as a huge ball of flame crashed into the captains cabin. Causing a deafening explosion and lighting the rear of the the ship ablaze. The sheer force of the blast knocked Roderick from his feet sending him sprawling to the deck.

Grappling hooks had been secured to the side of the Winterwind during the confusion and they were being pulled slowly to the west. The blaze lit the area around them, clearing the fog. Roderick spotted the Black Sails of a War Ship much larger than the Winterwind. The deck of the ship was heavily manned with crazed men wailing and baring a variety of weapons.

"It's an ambush!" Called Roderick loudly.

The rest of the fleet had reached the cove now, and the soldiers charged the beaches, far out of earshot. Suddenly Seamus was at his side pulling him to his feet. He drew Bloodlust from its scabbard then strapped the wooden Umber shield to his left forearm. He and Seamus sprinted towards the fore of the ship, where Iron Born men had already begun to board and cut down his remaining men. Their screams sounded all around him as they were butchered, Filling Roderick with terror.

A large bald man was upon him suddenly, whaling and arcing his sword down towards him, Roddy took the blow on his shield. His knees buckled and he tumbled to the deck at the mans feet. Before he could strike the finishing blow, He was cut down before his eyes, his hot blood sprayed across Roddy's face. He pulled himself to his feet and noticed the deck was now overrun with Iron Born and fire. Seamus pulled his axe from the corpse of the bald man and set about bringing quick death to any who stepped within his reach. Roddy spotted a scrawny boy that was engaging one of the surviving Northmen. He spotted an opening and darted across the deck thrusting Blood Lust into the boys gut. He drew the sword from him and kicked him over board. He turned to pick his next target. He knew he must choose carefully, he had over estimated himself earlier. Seamus was now overcome and would not be able to save him a second time.

He scanned the surrounding area, each man looked as ferocious as the next, but then Roddy spotted one man with only one eye. Easy pickings he thought to himself.

The man was tall and slender and his short cropped hair and well kept beard were black as night. His skin was pale and his face was handsome besides the eye patch which covered his left eye. He wore the modest padded black leather armour of a common soldier but the chest was emblazoned with a Golden Kraken. He didn't seem to be taking part in the fight since he had no weapon drawn. Roderick charged the cowardly looking man with Bloodlust held above his head. He swung the sword towards the mans man leaned back instantly and his upper body pivoted quickly showing his lightning fast reactions to avoid the blade. Roderick attempted to regain his balance, he planted his feet, staring down the man. Still he drew no weapon.

Roddy attempted to swing again, but he mans bony fist struck him in his jaw sharply. He fell to the ground. Blood filled his mouth and his vision grew blurred. Bloodlust shot from his grip, falling at the mans feet, the fire had spread to the lower deck now, and the flames danced around them.

The handsome one eyed man bent to pick up the sword. He admired the shimmering blade for a moment, then lifted it high above his head. He brought the sword down on Roderick forcefully. He had only a second to react. He raised his shield to cover his head. And the blade sunk into the thick wood, sending a sharp jolt through his arm.

The man let out a crazed laugh, he pulled the sword from the shield and brought it down upon Roderick over and over again in a violent frenzy. Eventually the wooden shield had shattered under the force of the blows. The young boy lay exposed on the deck of the burning ship. The man looked down upon him with a large grin across his face. He seemed to enjoy the blood shed around him immensely.

"Stand boy" he gripped Roderick by his cloak and yanked him to his feet and stared into his eyes.

"How do you want to die?" The man teased.

Roderick didn't respond, instead he spat a mouthful of blood into the mans face. His expression changed instantly from enjoyment to fury.

"Very well! You shall die by your own sw-"

Suddenly a bellowing voice drowned out his words.

"I Failed the Father!. I will not fail the Son!".

Seamus was charging towards them.

The man saw him coming and quickly thrust the fresh forged short sword into Rodericks torso. Ice cold pain spread through him and his whole body grew weak as he let out a gasp. He felt the blade Tear from his flesh almost as soon as it had entered. Suddenly he was flying through the air, wrapped in a warm tight embrace. A large splash sounded around him. The taste of salty water filled his mouth and burned his nostrils...

Then there was only darkness.

* * *

Adrenaline pulsed through Seamus keeping him strong as he swam while dragging the young heir behind him. A trail of blood followed them in water and the boys skin and begun to grow cold against his. He refused to give up hope. He had made a promise to Lady Barbrey that he intended to keep. As the southern shore of Pike grew nearer the sound of steel clashing against steel mixed with the screams of men had been replaced by cheers.

"The Kraken is defeated!"

"Hail King Robert!"

"The Rebellion is quelled!"

As he reached the blood stained sandy beach, he dragged the boy to dry land and collapsed amongst the ships beside him heaving for breath. His adrenaline had faded and his wounds were now apparent to him. He was covered from head to toe in blood and gore. He knew much of it was his own, the Iron Men had been tough opposition and he was no longer the great warrior that he had been in years previous.

Suddenly thundering foot steps approached. A group of Lordly men were heading towards them. Seamus recognised most of them as he had fought beside them in previous battles. He began to recite their names in his head.

Lord Greatjon Umber, Lord Rickard Karstark, Jorah Mormont, Lord Eddard Stark and the King himself, Robert Baratheon followed by the Red Priest Thoros of Myr and Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer.

Lord Stark began to run as he noticing the lifeless form of the boy lying on the sands. He fell to his knees at the boys side cradling him in his arms and pulling his head close to his chest.

"He's gone" he muttered. Seamus saw a lone tears begin to roll down the mans cheek. Seamus shared the Ned's grief and he soon joined him in tears to mourn the passing of the young Lord.

"He's just a bloody squire" called King Robert in the distance "Get on your feet!"

"No!" Ned argued "This is Lord Willam Dustin's firstborn son!".

"The blood of the Barrow King..." Uttered Thoros of Myr. His cheery face instantly grew dark, almost sad Seamus thought.

He ran to Lord Stark's side and dropped to his knees beside Roddy. He placed his head against the boys chest began to frantically call out.

"Lord cast your light upon this Boy, Your champion. Bring him back from death and darkness. His flame has been extinguished, I pray you restore it!"

He repeated the words three times over. A long silence followed as all the Lordly men stared down with puzzled looks at the raving fanatic shouting at a corpse. Finally the King broke the silence.

"Thoros, Stop this madness. Let us give the boy an honest burial and be done with -"

The King was silenced and Seamus's jaw dropped when he heard a faint spluttering cough coming from the corpse lying on the sand at his side.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Six

289 AL

Roderick took a long sharp breath. He began to choke uncontrollably bringing up a mixture of blood and seawater which ran down his chin onto his chest. He forced his eyes open, the light was blinding at first but soon his eyes adjusted.

Ned, The Red Priest and the Greatjon all kneeled around him.

"Are you all dead too?" Roderick asked in a surprised tone.

He had thought he would never see any of them again. He was certain he had died upon the flaming deck of the Winterwind. The one eyed man had taken Bloodlust and thrust the blade into his stomach and out through his back. He wondered for a moment if it had been a Nightmare.

"No lad. We are amongst the living... As are you. Our Lord is generous and It would seem he is not finished with y-"

Suddenly the priest was interrupted by the familiar bellowing voice of The Greatjon.

"Roddy... Is that really you?" His voice was shaking and Roddy was certain he could see tears amongst the blood stains that were splattered across the Giants cheeks.

"Aye" he muttered unable to form any other words. He leaned up and saw Seamus on the sand beside him barely conscious. The ageing warriors face was covered in weeping cuts and burns and his armour was thick with dry clotted blood. Suddenly the reality of the situation dawned on him. He raised his hands to his stomach and ran them over his chainmail shirt. A tear had appeared in the links revealing a large gaping wound in the centre of his stomach. He began to panic as the scene of the fight slowly returned to him in flash backs. He remembered the ice cold feeling as the blade cut through him and he recalled how Seamus had cannoned into him, pulling him from the blade and sending them both tumbling overboard into the raging sea below.

"What in seven hells happened out there?" Demanded Ned, the fury in his tone was evident. Roddy tried to form words to describe the images that were flashing through his mind but soon Seamus spoke for him.

"Ambush my Lord... The Winterwind is lost and the Northmen and the crew slaughtered" the man began to cough violently spraying flecks of blood onto the sand beside him.

"I would have the name of the man who put a blade in my Right Hand!"Demanded Ned shouting at the top of his voice.

The response was barely a whisper as the man began to loose consciousness before them.

"Euron Crows Eye"

Tears began to well up in Roddy's eyes as he gazed down upon the dying man. Their eyes met for a moment and the mans lips began to move and a faint whisper came from them.

"Don't cry for me my Lord. I'm going to see your Father" His eyes rolled to the back of his head and suddenly the sound of his rasping breaths grew silent.

"By the old gods, the Greyjoy's will pay for this!".

Ned departed from the beach with haste towards Lordsport followed by his advisors. The Greatjon remained at his side as he lay on the sand considering Seamus's last words.

"My father..." Roderick muttered, The only words he could form as pure exhaustion began to over come him.

Lord Umber scooped Roddy up into his arms carefully. As he began to drift into a deep slumber he vaguely heard the Greatjon mutter something under his breath.

"He was the greatest man I ever met...".

* * *

It had been three long days by the time Roddy awoke. He raised himself from the small wooden cot and soon realised he was naked below the furs. He scanned his surroundings and when he noticed he was alone he raised himself from the cot, moving swiftly across the tent towards a makeshift dresser and mirror which were the only other pieces of furniture in the small tent.

He examined himself in the mirror, he noticed his wound had been washed and stitched. He ran a finger across the soft scar tissue which had begun to form around the area. To his amazement the wound was completely painless.

As he examined his face he noticed he wore a dark brooding look that he had never recognised on himself before. It was befitting of the way he felt, it was as though a part of his soul had been torn away and replaced with bitter cold emptiness. He knew he had cheated death and this would be his eternal punishment.

Roddy could no longer stand the sight of the wound. He began to dress quickly. His armor had been cleaned and repaired but still Bloodlust was missing. Once his cloak was pinned with the crossed long axe symbol he departed hastily from the room in an attempt to escape the dark thoughts that haunted him.

He emerged onto a large camp site. Soft sand crunched beneath his boots and he could hear distant waves crashing against the rocks, Roddy soon realised they were still on the Isle of Pike. The camp was alive with movement. Hundreds of soldiers scurried towards the shoreline where they cramped around a large wooden structure that had been erected.

As a young squire boy raced close by Roderick grabbed ahold of his arm stopping him instantly.

"What is happening here?" He demanded.

"The hanging is today" responded the squire, his voice full of terror as his eyes fell upon the pin on Roddy's chest.

"Who?"he quizzed desperate for answers.

"The Kraken boy" he looked to the ground with a solemn look upon his face as he spoke "an innocent child..."

"Who ordered this madness!" Roderick demanded, his temper was slowly beginning to bubble.

"The Warden of the North"

The words shocked Roddy. He did not believe his Liege Lord would be capable of such a crime.

"Take me to him" Roderick ordered and the young squire obeyed without question, leading him through the sea of bodies towards the Commanders Tent.

As he arrived the guard at the entrance began to announce him.

"Roddy the Right, Righthand of Lord Stark".

Roddy burst through the flap before Ned could respond. He realised Ned was alone in room. He was sat at a table drowning his sorrows with Wine, half a dozen empty flagons littered the table.

Ned stood as he spotted his youngest advisor standing the entrance and gestured for him to come closer. Roddy marched across the room and slumped onto the stool opposite him.

"My Lord what is the meaning of this!" Roderick demanded coldly letting his temper get the better off him. Ned grimaced as he sensed the coldness in his tone.

"Roderick you have to understand... Lord Balon must pay for this. His attack upon you was a direct attack upon me. Such a spineless act of cruelty can not go unpunished!" Ned pleaded desperate to convince him.

"You would punish an innocent boy for the sins of the father?" Roderick argued unconvinced by the arguement.

"A Lord must make such decisions in times of war lad" Ned responded. Roderick was certain somebody else was behind this plot, Lord Starks words sounded rehearsed and foreign coming from his mouth. He scowled and after a moments pause he spoke again.

"Where is the boy?" Lord Stark sighed and stood from his seat, he gestured for Roddy to follow him leading the way out of the tent. He led him towards a smaller tent just a short distance to the south. The entrance was guarded by six heavily armed Stark soldiers.

"All this for one boy?" Roderick asked, He was certain these men could be put to better use elsewhere.

"Better to be safe than sorry" Ned replied softly, Those were the first words He had spoken during the time that Roddy truly agreed with. Ned led the way inside. Once Roddy's eyes adjusted to his surroundings he was shocked by what he saw. A young child, Barely the age of Lord Stark's eldest son lay sprawled out sleeping upon a straw matress. The childs hands and feet were chained to the bed posts with heavy iron mannacles. The child had curly brown hair that fell to his shoulders. His youthful face was bruised from where the guards had beaten him and his large brown eyes were Red and puffy, a clear sign he had been crying. Pity oozed from within him and he felt a desperate need to protect the boy.

"Have you taken leave of your senses!" He shouted at the disgraced man opposite from him. Ned seemed to ignore the comment instead he began to explain his reasoning.

"After i found you on the beach, I went to Lord Balon and demanded that the Winterwind be returned. He laughed and refused telling me that his brother had paid the Iron Price for it. So now Lord Balon will pay the iron price fo-"

"Then why is his brother not before us? This child has caused me no harm. You will not commit this crime in my name!" Shouted Roderick cutting in before Ned could finish his tale.

"I will do what duty commands!" Lord Stark argued shouting now.

"I would remind you Lord Stark that we are not those kind of men. We are Men of the North not some Dothraki savages from across the Narrow Sea!" Roddy argued back with added ferocity.

"Watch your tounge boy" Ned responded coldy moving his hand Toward the hilt of his Valyrian Steel Longsword that hung from his belt. Roderick knew his Lord would not listen to reason, so instead he shot him a look of disgust and turned to depart from the tent.

* * *

Roderick pulled his hood low to avoid attention as he jostled through the crowd of soldiers to get into position at the foot of the make shift Gallows which were heavily guarded with Stark Men. A path began to clear through the crowd and one of the guards from the tent approached, leading the young boy whos features were obscured by the Sack upon his hangman began to tie his noose from the rope that dangled above a barrel that had been placed in the centre of the gallows.

As he grew closer Roderick could hear the protests of the young Lordling. his high pitched screams seemed to drown out all other noise.

"Please somebody help me!" The boy called to the crowd "Please i dont want to die!". In that moment Roderick made a decision.

"Not today little one" He whispered under his breath quiet enough for only him to hear. The guard marched the boy up the steps and lifted him by his waist placing him upon the barrell. The other Stark guards positioned around the Gallows all looked on with unease. Roderick knew this would work in his advantage, This meant they would not stand in his way. The hangman lowered the noose around the Young boys neck and removed the sack upon his head. Lord Stark began to ascend the steps onto the scaffold. He stopped before the boy and began to speak.

"I, Eddard Stark Lord of Winterfell and Warden in the North sentence you to die by hanging. Do you have any last words?" The boy sobbed uncontrollably unable to form speech so after a short while Ned nodded to the hang man and he kicked the barrel from underneath him.

Suddenly Roddy was moving, He bounded up the steps towards the flailing child. As he moved past Ned he reached for the Sword at his Lord's hip drawing it from its scabbard before he could react. The executioner turned to confront him but Roddy was quick to act. He kicked the the man in his mid drift sending him tumbling from the scaffold into the gathered crowd below. Roddy swung Ice cutting through the rope like a hot knife through butter bringing the young boy tumbling down onto the wooden planks with a thud. All fell silent around them as Roddy dropped the sword and kneeled at the Boy's side. He scooped the relieved child into his arms and carried him down the steps from the clearing. To his suprise nobody opposed him and a path was cleared back towards the camp. As he walked he held the boy tight and whispered in his ear.

"Dont worry little Kraken, Nobody will ever harm you while i am around".


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors Note**

 **Hey Guys**

 **First off i would like to thank all who have taken time to read my story so far. Also i would like to apologise for the long update delay, I was unsure where i wanted to take the story so i spent some time planning future chapters.**

 **Now that you have an idea of Roderick's past i am going to bringing the time period forward to the time of the shows. Each chapter will be set during the events of a particular epsiode following the progress of House Dustin during this time. There will be slight changes to suit my story line.**

 **I hope you guys enjoy the story. All reviews, follows and favourites are greatly appreciated.**

 **Winter is Coming**

 **298 AL**

A loud thud sounded against the door stirring Barbery from her dreams. She thought maybe she had imagined the sound, so she dismissed it and rolled over in an attempt to find sleep once more. Just as she began to drift back into a light slumber the noise sounded again, louder this time. She raised herself from the bed flinging the furs aside. The sky was still dark outside of the window. Fury bubbled in the pit of her stomach mixed with pity for the man who would dare to wake her at the hour of the wolf.

She stood from the bed and pulled her night gown from the mannequin that stood tall beside her dresser. She swept across the room towards the door calling out as she unbolted the lock.

"For your own sake this had better be good!" She lifted the latch and opened the door glaring out into the corridor.

At first she saw no one but as she looked down to the ground she noticed Kian the Bastard, The captain of the Barrowton guard knelt before her. Kian had grown into a handsome young man. He had the curly dark hair and mesmerizing dark eyes that all Stark men seemed to share. In looks he was very similar to Brandon the Wild Wolf but in temperament he reminded her of his late sister Lyanna most of all. He was rash and tended to think with his heart rather than his head.

Growing up Barbery had tried to shun the boy by confiding him to Goldgrass to serve Lord Stout, But he had been intent on proving his worth. He trained hard under Ser Rollan who had shaped the boy into a fine warrior. He would often take it upon himself to use his skills to defend those who could not defend themselves and this had seen him rise quickly through the ranks at Barrowton and strangely enough the name Kian the Bastard had become a respected one throughout the Barrowlands.

"Forgive me My Lady" He spoke sheepishly as he peered up at her.

"What is it Snow?" Barbery demanded her tone forceful.

"The patrol has just returned My Lady, The thief has been apprehended" He responded without pause. The good news settled Barbrey's temper instantly and a faint smile crossed her lips for a moment.

"Very good Snow, You will take me to him at once"

She dressed quickly in a modest silk dress and wrapped her fine fur cloak around her shoulders. She gestured for Kian to bring the Dustin sword from the dresser. The modest steel sabre that Lord Willam had wielded during the Rebellion. He had marched off with a promise of his return and months later all that had returned to her was the Horse she had given to him and the Sword. She had named the blade 'Broken Promises' and ever since she had used his sword to dispense punishment on law breakers and she was sure she may have to use it again this night.

They swept through the wooden corridors of Barrowhall side by side, The vast halls were empty besides the few Dustin spearmen standing guard at various points who saluted them as they passed. Eventually they came to the door leading to the dungeons. The Gaoler was waiting for them with a torch as they arrived. Barbrey nodded to the brute and he led the way down the steep wooden staircase into the bowels of the castle.

When they reached the bottom The Gaoler led them along the dark damp passage before coming to a stop infront of the third door they passed. He unbolted the large iron door and gestured towards the small cell.

"I will go in alone" Barbrey commanded. Before Kian could object she snatched the torch from the hands of the man and stepped into the room closing the door behind her.

The room was cramped and bare of furnishing besides a rotting wooden cot and the chamber pot in the corner. A familiar smell from her childhood in The Rills hit her instantly causing her to reminisce for a moment, the smell of horses seemed to be coming from the man that lay curled on the wooden cot.

"Stand thief!" Barbrey ordered in a tone of authority. The man did as he was told and now she could see his face in the flickering torch light. He had a gaunt hairless face that was covered in filth and limp blonde hair. He peered at her through deep sunk black eyes. The little man revolted her and instantly she began to regret the decision to come in alone but she dared not let her concern become visible.

"Where is the dagger?" She quizzed desperate for answers. After a long pause the man spoke.

"Right here" the man replied as he smirked and lifted his cuffed arm, The beautiful valyrian steel dagger slipped from within the cuff of his sleeve and landed on the ground with a loud clang. He seemed overly satisfied with himself for keeping the weapon concealed for so long. Barbrey knelt to collect the ancient ancestrial dagger that belonged to Lord Harwood Stout. She examined the glistening blade and the dragonbone handle for a moment until she was certain it was the real thing.

"Tell me thief, How did you do it?" Barbrey questioned further "Lord Harwood is a paranoid man and the walls of Goldgrass are always heavily manned, I have heard it said that it is impossible to breach the keep unseen"

"No breach is impossible for a man of my experience My Lady" The man responded arrogantly.

"Of what experience do you speak?" Asked Barbrey.

"That would be telli-"

"You will answer the question or your head will decorate my keep by Morning!" Barbrey interupted growing increasingly more frustrated by the second. The man looked at his feet for a moment, she could tell he was running out of options and soon she would have the information she required.

"I served for many years under the Master of the Thieves Guild in Lys my Lady, Breaking and Entering is my speciality"

"Who sent you?" Barbrey probed further.

"No one sent me my Lady. I do these things for sport" the man responded his tone as arrogant as ever. Barbrey had heard all that she needed to hear and an idea suddenly dawned on her. She began to speak and the man listened eagerly.

"I am the Lady of Barrowton and the task of your punishment falls to me. By law i am obliged to offer those who are caught stealing with a choice... You can loose three fingers of your choosing or you can take up the Black and be forgiven for your crimes" The man let out a faint moan but Barbrey sensed an oppurtunity and continued to adress him.

"However with a man of your special talents i feel obliged to offer a third choice... A position has become available in my household and you fit the criteria perfectly. Swear fealty to me and enter into my service and i will drop the charges against you"

The man sunk to his knees defeated and began to recite the words of the oath. He had no weapon of his own to swear to her so instead he swore upon the valyrian steel dagger which Barbrey later bestowed upon him and after much thought she also gave the nameless man an alias for her to remember him by.

"I name you Catpaw".

* * *

Roderick drew his practice sword and began to size up the young Kraken facing him on the opposite side of the sparring ring. Theon charged recklessly with his own wooden blade held high above his head. Roderick quickly adjusted his body position to intercept. Theon brought his blade down with great force but Roddy had already expected this. He raised his own blade to parry the blow, the sound of clashing steel rung in his ears as he moved gracefully to flank the young man.

He spotted an opening and extended his leg to sweep Theon's feet from under him bringing him thudding to the ground in a heap. He stepped over the boy and touched the tip of his blade to his throat.

"Dead" Roderick gloated. he withdrew the blade and turned to the crowd of boys standing behind them. The group consisted of the Stark boys and the southern squires that had accompanied The Kings procession to Winterfell.

"Next" he called to the crowd and this time Robb stepped forward into the ring, Lord Starks eldest son and heir. Roderick cast a nervous glance towards Ned but he was comforted by the wide grin that was plastered on his Lord's face.

"Dont go easy on him!" he called and Roderick nodded dutifully.

"Draw your sword" He spoke in a cold tone towards his younger apprentice. Robb caste off his cloak and knelt to pick up the sword that the Kraken had left in the dirt. They circled eachother for a moment. Roderick could clearly see that The Young Wolf was distracted as Theon had been, too eager to impress so he waited patiently for the young Lordling to make his first mistake.

Robb moved first, He lunged forward thrusting his blade towards Roddy's gut which he parried with ease and again he waited. Robb tried a diffrent approach, flanking him and arcing his blade down towards Roddy's right shoulder. He leaped to the side quickly to avoid the swing and Robb brought his blade down missing him by inches. The blade buried intself in the snow and Roddy quickly moved to disarm him. He kicked out sending the wooden blade sailing through the air to the far side of the ring. Robb scurried towards the blade. Suddenly he tripped and fell face first into the snow, He crawled frantically on his stomach towards his weapon. He wrapped his fingers around the hilt and rolled over raising the sword to defend himself. Roddy knocked it aside with ease and placed the tip of his blade against his throat.

"Dead" he muttered to Robb's disgust. "Next" He called to the crowd yearning for a real challenge. Jon Snow jumped of the barrier with a fierce look in his eyes which Roddy found highly amusing.

"You going to avenge your brother boy?" He mocked and Jon fell for the bait. He charged and Roddy kicked him in his mid drift lifting the bastard from his feet. Jon lost his sword in the process and before he could hope to find it the wooden tip was pressed against his throat.

"I think we are done here" Said Roderick as he turned to leave the ring. Jon stood and ran in the opposite direction in embaressment. Suddenly a shout from the stands caught Roddy's attention making him spin around.

"NO JON!" the voice had come from Lord Stark who was upstanding now. Roderick spotted the bastard boy charging him again but this time he wielded a real blade of shimmering steel. Roderick barely had time to raise his practice sword to parry the blow. The force of the swing lopped the wooden sword in two. Roderick tossed it aside but still Jon advanced. He had no other option, he drew his Longsword from his belt and held it across his body in a defensive stance.

"Dont be a fool Jon" said Roddy cautiously but this only seemed to anger the bastard boy further. He charged releasing an onslaught of blows which Roddy struggled to parry. Soon Roddy began to tire but Jons swings only seemed to get stronger, forcing him backwards into retreat. As Roddy looked into the boys eyes he saw a fire burning within him. This distracted him for a moment allowing Jon the oppurtunity to disarm him with a fierce swing. sending Roddy's longsword spinning through the air. Still the fire burnt within him, Jon wrapped the flat of his blade against the back of Roddys calves causing him to loose his footing. He pushed the blade against Roddy's throat causing beads of blood to well up at the point where the blade made contact. Fear overcame Roddy as flashbacks of the darkness that came with death filled his mind.

Suddenly a lone wolf began to howl persistently nearby causing Jon to freeze in his tracks. The fire extinguished instantly and he dropped the sword with a look of utter panic on his face. He turned to sprint from the ring towards the source of the noise. Theon ran across the ring to Roddy's side. He offered a hand which Roddy took gratefully. Together they gave pursuit of the bastard boy taking large strides across the courtyard towards the source on the noise. The howling grew louder as they rounded the corner towards the section of the courtyard where The Broken Tower stood.

As they grew near Roderick spotted Jon knelt at the base of the tower beside a large pile of furs. The bastard boy cried hysterically which filled Roderick with pity. They approached cautiously until they were standing over him. Roderick looked down upon at the pile of furs and instanly the pity changed to a sense of pure horror. What he thought was a pile of furs was actually a young cripped child wrapped in a fine fur cloak. Tiny deformed shattered legs poked out from underneath the cloak. As Roderick looked down upon the face of the cripple he too was brought to tears. Lying before him in the snow was Brandon Stark of Winterfell.


	9. Chapter 9

**The Kingsroad - Part One**

 **298 AL**

The Dustin procession left a cloud of dust in their wake as they thundered into the courtyard of Goldgrass astride their powerful warhorses. Lady Barbrey led the party astride the pride of the herd, A majestic red stallion. She was closely flanked by Kian the Bastard on his wild shaggy black mare and a selection of ten of House Dustins renowned spearmen.

Barbrey noticed the aging Lord and Lady Harwood waiting for them at the foot of the steep staircase leading to the keep. She gestured for her obedient men to stay back and directed her steed across the narrow courtyard towards the unusual pairing, Barbrey tugged on the reigns causing the stallion to rear only mere feet from where they stood. She brought the loyal beast under control with a subtle kick of her heels.

"Very good my Lady" Lord Harwood declared with a smug smile painted across his wrinkled face. Barbery shot him a look of annoyance which instantly made him crawl back into the shell that the cowardly man was so fond of. Barbrey often took pleasure in intimidating the petty lord and she felt a sense of achievement that her ability to terrify the frail man had only grown stronger with age.

Barbrey dismounted gracefully and handed the reigns to the stocky red haired stableboy. He snatched at them eagerly as he marvelled at the beast.

"He is Beautiful wouldnt you agree?" Barbery questioned the oblivious boy.

"Aye mi Lady, I never seen a horse of suc-" The excited boy began to stutter in response but Barbrey cut him off before he could finish.

"And tell me boy... Have you ever heard of the reputation of Ronson of the Rills?"

"Of course mi Lady. The Stablemaster of the Ril-" The boy stuttered again and again Barbrey silenced him before be could finish.

" That horse there is his pride and joy. If he returns to me with even a single strand of hair out of place, Master Ronson will hear of it and not even the old gods will be able to spare you from the wrath of that brute" The boy yelped loudly and fled from her presence after assuring her that her horse will be treated with the utmost care. She approached the aging couple who she had left kneeling in the dirt while she had her fun and towered over them. She greeted Lady Stout first, she offered her right hand to help the slender woman to her feet. They exchanged half hearted pleasantries before Barbrey turned towards the Lord of the house crouched in the dirt like the dog that he was.

"Harwood..." Barbrey greeted him with a complete lack of interest. She offered him her left hand where she sported a large golden ring set with a ciruclar topaz gemstone. he scurried forwards and planted a sloppy kiss on the ring causing the Dustin soldiers to snigger. Satisfied by his humiliation Barbey gestured for him to rise to his feet unaided.

"I have been hearing wild rumours Harwood" Barbrey chided in her Ladylike tone of voice.

"Rumours my Lady? Concerning whom?" Questioned the oblivious Lord.

"Concerning you Harwood..." She allowed a wry smile to pass her lips as she toyed with him against his knowledge. " The small folk of the Barrowlands say you have become a very strong man who has developed certain magic powers". Harwood's expression turned to one of utter confusion.

"Powers My Lady?"

"Aye. I have heard it said that you have these amazing abilities... Such as the power to magically summon powerful women of a particular standing into your presence to do your bidding whenever it pleases you!" Barbrey shouted at the quivering old fool before her. It took him a moment to regain his senses and soon he began to form a reply.

"Forgive me my Lady i meant no offence!" He pleaded " My scouts intercepted a letter of interest at dawn from across the border. I assumed you might want to see it for yourself urgently." He held out a small roll of parchment towards her as he spoke.

"Then let us hope for your sake that you assumed correctly" Barbrey responded bluntly and she snatched the note from his possession. She noticed the letter was actually a scout report that had been adressed to her directly and the black axe sigil of her rival Lord Medger Cerwyn was pressed into the wax sealing the letter. She unfolded the parchment and began to decipher the slanted hand.

 _Tensions are high. Brandon Stark remains in his sickbed each passing day bringing him closer to life as a cripple. The warden has accepted position as hand of the king and prepares to journey to the capital leaving young Robb an inexperienced boy to control the North. Ready your people, War is coming._

"Very good Harwood. It has been a long time since we received word on the activities of our eastern neighbours. How did you come by this information?" Barbrey questioned.

Lord Harwood beamed at her clearly delighted to receive her approval but before he could respond a large brutish soldier jostled to the front of the gathering crowd leading a man behind him. A brown grain sack covered the mans head concealing his identity and his wrists and ankles were clapped in heavy chains. The brute kicked the mans feet from under him forcing him to his knees before Barbrey. He was wearing a Red Surcoat emblazoned with the eagle head sigil that Barbrey despised above all others over his fine made scale armour. Barbrey stepped forward and prized the sack from the head of the man dressed in the colours of her enemies, House Condon.

She quickly noted the man was actually just a boy that had been beaten bloody and an important one at that. Ser Kyle Condon was Lord Medger Cerwyns pet dog and Barbrey knew it was very peculiar to see him stray from his liege lords side. He only left Cerwyn Castle to attend to matters of the greatest importance and was considered to be Medger's most reliable asset. Barbrey smirked as their eyes met and she confirmed his identity. Her hands instinctivly moved to the hilt of Broken Promises at her waist.

"How poor Medger must mourn for his stray pup" She mocked and the Dustin men jeered in the distance. Ser Kyle resisted with all of his might but the chains held strong causing the skin on his wrists to chafe and the gag muffled his protests. Eventually he lost all hope of escape and ceased to resist instead choosing to slump to the ground in a heap before her.

" Let us put the mutt out of his misery" She shouted growing increasingly more excited at the thought of slighting Medger Cerwyn. She drew the sword from its leather scabbard and stood over the helpless enemy with the razor sharp blade hovering only inches from the nape of his neck. Lord Harwood cheered in agreement and she lifted the blade.

"My Lady!" A shout sounded from behind her stilling her hand. She turned to the source and saw the Bastard approaching her cautiously.

"This is a proud man of the North... Such a man deserves fair trial and I would hear what he has to say before we pass such rash judgement upon him" He pleaded. After a moments thought she let out a deep sigh and agreed to the noble request grudgingly.

" _Typical fucking Stark"_ Barbrey muttered under her breath so that only she could hear it. She commanded the brute to remove the gag while Lord Harwood and the Bastard moved into position at her flanks.

"Do you have anything to say Ser Kyle?" Lord Harwood japed heartily although Ser Kyle dismissed him and instead turned to adress Barbrey herself.

"Aye i do. I would name this dimwit murderer" He spoke with disgust and pointed to Lord Harwood as he spoke. Next he turned to his soldier.

"And i would have this one's head for his crimes against those who acompanied me on this journey" The Stout soldier let out a bellowing laugh upon hearing the demands and kicked Ser Kyle in his ribs with a loud crack causing the knight to squirm in pain much to Barbrey's satisfaction. She began to speak against him.

"Your request is dismis-"

"Of what crimes do you speak Ser?" The bastard cut in before she could finish. She opened her mouth to scald him for his interruption but her tounge was stilled as she realised it would be foolish to challenge a man that commanded such loyalty from the Dustin army in public, She was not her husband and she was certain their loyalties could not be assured. He moved from her side and strolled towards Ser Kyle. The ugly towering soldier shrank back towards the safety of his Lord's side in fear as the commander approached him. He knelt and lifted Ser Kyle to his feet. Once standing he pulled the stranger close and whispered quielty in his ear.

" _Your words mean little here... You must request Trial by combat if you wish to live to see another day"_

"I admire your honour my lord" Ser Kyle muttered in approval.

"I am no Lord Ser, just a bastard of the north" Kian responded with pride. He had learned to wear his title like armour and now words of such things meant little to him.

"Forgive me. You must be commander Snow...Your reputation precedes you commander" Kyle muttered gratefully.

"As does your own Ser Kyle. Now tell me of those crimes you mentioned earlier" Kian shot Lord Harwood and his brutish soldier a sharp look as he spoke.

"Very well. We were three when we departed Castle Cerwyn. Our orders were to travel to the towns and villages of the west to give warning on developments in the east. We were headed straight for Barrow Hall to deliver that message to Lady Dustin when we were set upon by this brute and his men. I ordered my men not to resist him but he claimed he was under orders to kill so he disembowled them both anyway and would have killed me in the same fashion had i not announced myself" As Ser Kyle explained Kian's expression turned to one of fury. He rounded on Lord Harwood.

"If the Starks were to hear of this... Are you trying to start a fucking war you fool!" He shouted at the frail man.

"Mind your fucking tounge bastard!" The old man shouted back defiantly. Kians hand moved towards the hilt of his sword and he began to make up the distance between them.

"ENOUGH!" Barbrey whailed at the top of her voice bringing both men into instant submission. Once all was silent she continued to adress them.

"I have heard what Ser Kyle has to say and now i will pass my judgement... I, Barbrey Dustin, Lady of Barrowton sentence you Ser Kyle of House Conlon to death. How would you like to die Ser?"

"I demand trial by combat!" Kyle shouted wiping the smirk from Barbrey's face instantly.

"And who amongst us do you expect to serve as your champion and fight to defend the honour of Conlon scum?" Barbrey questioned bewildered by his choice. It seemed the young knight had not thought so far ahead and it quickly became clear he had no answer to offer her.

"I would offer my loyal soldier Russ to serve as your own champion my Lady" Lord Harwood called in the distance. The brute who had captured Ser Kyle stepped forward and knelt before her. The man was a true battle scarred veteran with bulking muscles, A perfect choice in her opinion.

"Very well" She muttered giving the brute her utmost approval. She turned from him to face the gathered crowd.

"And who will serve as Ser Kyle's champion?" She shouted daring some traitorous fool to step forward. There was a long pause and Barbrey began to grow increasingly more confident that no man would offer his services. Suddenly her confidence came crashing down as the familar lordly tone of the wolf sounded behind her.

"I, Kian Snow will stand as Ser Kyle's champion"

* * *

 _Roddy placed the palm of his hand against the smooth stone, It was cold to the touch but nothing happened. He began to recite the words._

 _"None...Shall...Rival" Suddenly the stone warmed beneath his finger tips and a carved stone door became apparent in the rock face as it swung inwards on ancient hinges with a loud creak revealing a narrow staircase spiralling down into the depths of the darkness below the hill. He felt a desperate urge to continue forward. He tried to walk but his legs seemed glued in place. He tried to call into the passage but no words came from his parted lips..._

Suddenly a nickering horse in the distance stirred Roddy from his dreams. Light streamed into the room from the nearby window and Roddy quickly realised he had overslept. He sprung from his bed throwing the furs to the side and ran to the window overlooking the courtyard to view the commotion. He noticed many men departing Winterfell on horses in single file formation. Down below he could see Ned and Catelyn surrounded by their children and Theon, It was obvious Lord Stark was saying his goodbyes. Roddy cursed the Young Kraken for not waking him while he ran to the dresser and proceeded to pull his armour from the mannequin.

He dressed as quickly as possible finishing with his fur trimmed cloak pinned with the bronze crossed axe pin that Lady Catelyn had given him the last time he had departed Winterfell at Ned's side all those years ago. Once dressed he moved to the window once more to check on the progress and noticed that Ned and his daughters no longer lingered in the Courtyard.

"Shit!" Roddy called as he turned to sprint from the room. He quickly bolted down the stairs taking three per stride and burst out into the courtyard . He angled his run towards the stables with great haste. Robb and Theon stood in the centre of the courtyard in deep discussion but Roddy paid them no mind as he rushed through the middle of them causing them to protest. He bounded through the large wooden entrance and Hodor greeted him. He was stood in the entrance grooming a strong shaggy brown mare that was already saddled. Easy pickings Roddy thought to himself. He ignored the simple stableboys protests as he flanked him and leaped up pulling himself into the horses saddle. Hodor pulled on the bridle but Roddy yanked on the reins forcefully and kicked his heels into the horses flanks causing the beast to rear, knocking Hodor from his feet. The steed proceeded to thunder from the stables into the Courtyard. Hodor chased after him shouting loudly much to the amusement of the sniggering Lordlings that watched on with wide eyes.

"Hodor,Hodor...HODOR!" Roddy let the calls wash over him as he directed the beat towards the gates of the keep.

"I will bring her back in one piece i promise!" Roddy called over his shoulder as he bounded through the threshold and out onto the snow scattered road that branched onto the Kings Road. The party had not gained much ground on him and Roddy could still make out the stragglers that made up the rear of the group in the distance. He spurred his horse on and they cantered up the road making up the distance between them in only moments.

Soon he reached the fork in the road and he spotted Ned their astride his horse in conversation with his Bastard Boy. The two said their farewells and Jon parted from the company in pursuit of his Uncle Benjen, favouring the path North rather than the one heading South. As Ned noticed Roddy bolting towards him his expression instantly turned dark. Roddy brought his horse to a halt infront of his liege lord and quickly dismounted, falling to his knees before him.

"Stand" Ned demanded and Roddy obeyed.

"Forgive my late arrival my Lord, Now if you will excuse me... I will catch up with the other Stark men heading for the capital" Roddy spoke confidently. He moved to remount his horse.

"You will do no such thing!" Ned commanded freezing him in his tracks.

"My Lord i am sworn to defen-"

"You swore an oath of fealty to me a long time ago. You offered me your life and you gave it in my name. Your debt to me was paid the day i made it possible for Euron bloody Greyjoy to put steel in you" Ned interuppted Roddy before he could finish.

"The oath stands!" Roddy argued passionately.

"No Roderick!" Ned shouted silencing the young bastards protests.

" I wish i had sent you back the day i returned from the great war and corrected the sins of my father. Instead i raised you amongst my own and marched you too your death! For that i will never forgive myself" Ned ranted and Roddy listened eagerly.

"I will not make the same mistake twice Roddy do you hear me?" He argued and Roddy was certain he could see tears welling in the proud mans eyes.

"My Lord..." Roddy muttered. They were the only words he could form as he struggled to process the information that was being heaped upon him.

"It is time you were allowed to take control of your own destiny and make your own decisions lad. I free you from your vows to me. If you wish to swear fealty to someone then swear it to my son, Robb. If what my gut tells me is true then he will need a strong man like you at his side in the times to come..."

Roddy found tears streaming down his own face as a sense of abandonment washed over him. His birth parents had abandoned him and now the man who had raised him into the man he was today was also leaving him out in the cold. Lord Stark gave him a brisque nod.

"Your Father would be proud of the man you have become" Ned uttered under his breath barely audible.

"You knew my father?" Roderick muttered as he began to shake uncontrollably.

"Knew him? I grew to love the man" Ned responded shakily as the tears began to spill down his cheeks and distant memories clouded his mind.

"Tell me everything... I beg you My Lord" Roderick responded as he stared into the Lord's eyes. Ned opened his mouth to speak but he hesitated and no words followed. After a long awkward pause he looked over his shoulder towards the departing procession.

"Now is not the time lad" Ned said much to Roddy's annoyance.

"But" Roddy blurted impatiently.

"The next time we meet, I will tell you everything i know about your father... I promise" Ned responded. Roddy nodded reluctantly although Ned had made him a promise, Something in his own gut told him this would be the last time they would see eachother. As Ned turned to leave he spoke three words which struck deep meaning within Roddy as he had spoken them in his dreams every night for the past fortnight.

"None Shall Rival"


	10. Chapter 10

**The Kingsroad - Part Two**

 **298 AL**

The Courtyard grew silent and all eyes turned to Kian as he stepped forward into the clearing. Lady Barbrey looked furious and Lord Harwood seemed as though he might pass out from shock at any moment but neither of them dared to intervene . Instead he looked to his men for support, He looked into the bottle green eyes of his second in command Ronnel Stout, The nephew to Lord Harwood and only child of the famed warrior Ser Seamus Stout. Ronnel gave him a brisk reassuring nod which instantly settled the concerns that had begun to arise within his mind. Next he looked to his hulking opponent who was still knelt before the Lady of Barrowton. The sight of the man disgusted him and he was convinced he deserved to die for his crimes. He had passed the silent death sentence and now his honour demanded that he must do the deed himself.

After a pause Lady Barbrey submitted and stepped swiftly out of the clearing to join the excited spectators. Kian had expected her to challenge him, He was suprised when she had stayed silent but he knew Lady Barbey often held petty grudges and he was certain this would not be the last he would hear of this matter. The hulking criminal rose to his feet and proceeded to beat his chest like a rampant gorilla to the amusement of the crowd. As the man showboated Kian planned his strategy of attack and by the time the man had turned to face him he had already mapped the entire fight out in his head with close co-ordination down to the final blow.

The veteran was handed his war hammer by Lord Stout's freckled squire. Kian drew both of his favoured shortswords from their scabbards at his belt and raised the unforgiving blades above his head in a defensive stance. Barbrey raised her hand and suddenly the excited chatter faded into silence as the crowd turned their attentions to her to await her signal. However Kian's attention remained fixed on the hulking man as he recited the clever routine continuously in his mind.

"Let the will of the old gods be known!" Barbrey commanded in a cold tone. She drew the sword that she had named 'Broken Promises' and drove the blade into the ground. Upon that signal the veteran charged as expected. He swung the head of his hammer down towards Kian's kneecaps. Kian leaped into the air with perfect timing avoiding the swing, While airborne he stabbed out with the left blade missing the mans cheek by a matter of inches.

The second hammer blow came at head height and this time Kian was forced to stoop down low to avoid it, Making any form of offence impossible. The third had similiar effect and Kian struggled to get within striking distance. His thoughts began to race as he attempted to quickly adjust his strategy. He decided the man must be disarmed if he would have a chance of besting him quickly. The fourth hammer strike came, The soldier put everything he had into the swing as he brought it down upon Kian's head...

With only a second to spare Kian darted to the side avoiding the death blow narrowly. Russ was unable to bring the weapon under control and the steel head struck the ground causing a minor tremor. The sheer force of the blow knocked the weapon from his grip.

The hulking soldier bent to retrieve his weapon but Kian seized upon the opportunity allowing the glorified criminal no quarter. He brought his right blade arcing down swiftly towards his shoulder, Russ showed suprisingly fast reactions as he raised his left hand to take the blow. He caught the blade in his bare hand and Kian felt the blade slice into the flesh, all the way to the bone. The hulking man grunted in pain. He grabbed Kian by his throat using his free hand and lifted him from his feet. He gripped tighter and Kian could feel the air being squeezed from his lungs. His vision grew clouded and his limbs began to grow weak.

Suddenly a burst of red hot adrenaline began to course through him giving him boost of strength that he required. Kian recoiled his right arm and channelled all the strength that remained within him into his free hand. he thrust forward and plunged the tip of the blade straight threw the soldiers throat all the way to the hilt severring his jugular vein. The man let out a series of spluttering coughs and blood began bubble in his mouth and drip down his chin. His grip slackened and he dropped Kian to the ground shortly before collapsing himself. Within moments the rasping breaths grew silent and the life faded from the criminal.

The Dustin soldiers errupted into celebration filling the court yard with a buzz of noise. Kian writhed on the ground and began the heave as the icy cold air slowly returned to his oxygen starved lungs. Ronnel broke the ranks and ran to the side of his superior.

"Justice is served brother" He muttered as he offered his hand and Kian took ahold of it gratefully allowing his friend to pull him to his feet once more. He scanned the faces of the gathered crowd briefly and it quickly came to his attention that someone was missing...

The sound of beating hooves caught his attention and out of the corner of his eye he could faintly make out the dark silhouette of high born lady departing from the courtyard alone astride a stunning noble red steed.

* * *

The cold breeze whipped against Barbreys face as she departed from the courtyard in a terrible fit of rage. As she rode she contemplated the situation deeply. On one hand she was relieved that the commander of her army had come out of the fight mostly unscathed, But on the other hand she was furious that the dead man had failed her.

She kicked on as they reached the foot of The Great Barrow and the horse clattered up the wide wooden staircase unsteadily. Rather than travel to the main gate at the peak of the hill She decided to veer her steed onto the ancient nature trail that forked from the staircase three quarters of the way from the base. The trail had become overgrown over the years and was unrecognisable to those who didnt already know of its existence. Lord Willam had brought her here as a precaution before departing Barrowton to participate in the Great War. His words wrung in her ears as she edged forward.

 _"Should the Mad King turn his attentions towards the home of my father's , The Great Barrow itself shall shield you from harm until the day comes that i return to you"_

She soon arrived at the familiar location. She dismounted swiftly and scanned the distance to ensure she not been followed. Satisfied that she was alone she tied her horse to the gnarled tree stump and bent to unveil the dicreet wooden trap door. She yanked it open and began to descend the rickety wooden ladder into the deep damp depths of the hill. After a short climb she found solid ground. The tunnel was pitch black so Barbrey was forced to rely on her sense of touch to navigate the tunnel. She ran her fingertips along the earthen walls as she strolled slowly.

Her fingertips came into contact with cold stone and she could picture the large irregular carved stone wall that resided within the hill. She stroked her index finger across the foreign glyphs that remained as smooth as if they had only been carved yesterday. Her fingertips reached the centre of the wall and she felt a strange urge to place the flat of her palm against the smooth stone. Suddenly a series of faint ghostly whispers sounded nearby.

 _"Unworthy..."_

 _"Leave this place!"_

 _"Get out...Get out...GET OUT!"_

Barbrey prised her palm from the stone but the voices still sounded in her mind growing steadily louder. She did as commanded and ran as fast as her legs would carry her towards her desired location. She crashed into the earthen wall which signalled the end of the tunnel and reached out frantically to feel for the wooden door. She found it and forced it open stepping into the large manmade cavern. To her relief the voices stopped here allowing her to begin the peaceful ascent up the ladder that connected to a manhole in the wooden floorboard of the Kitchens of Barrowhall.

She burst through the manhole and was instantly confronted by her loyal handmaiden Grayce.

"My Lady?" Grace questioned. A shocked expression crossed her face as she recognised the Lady of the Hall climbing out of a hole in the ground.

"Dont ask" Barbrey cut her off before she could question further "I am retiring to my solar... Bring me wine and send for the thief"

"Yes My Lady" Grayce nodded and Barbrey departed from the Kitchens with haste.

Barbrey seated herself at her desk and she drank herself into a stupor as she stewed in her fury. She had been waiting impatintly for hours but still the thief had evaded her . Soon she had drained her second flagon of imported Arbor Red and she slipped into a fitful slumber at the desk. Her dreams came to her in flashbacks that night.

 _She stood at the window gazing out over the courtyard of Barrowhall as the Stark procession began to depart, The future Lady of Winterfell, Catelyn Tully of Riverun rode at the helm and in her arms she held a bundle of furs..._

 _Lord Willam thundered out of the same courtyard at the head of the Dustin/Stout army. His promise rang in her ears._

 _"I vow that i shall return to you astride this proud steed my love..."_

 _She could see the beautiful horse returning in the distance. She raced to the courtyard to greet her beloved husband. As the horse grew near Barbrey fell to her knees in despair as she noticed a solemn looking Ned Stark perched on its back..._

 _Ned Stark stood opposite from her and she screamed in his direction._

 _"You have taken my beloved husband from me. Atleast do me the curtousy of returning my only child to my arms!"_

 _"He is safer with me!" Ned argued defiantly..._

 _A battle weary knight arrived at Barrowton making wild claims. He was presented before Barbrey and the man spoke gravely._

 _"My name is Ser Marlon Manderley. I served under The Right Hand of Ned Stark in the Greyjoy Rebellions"_

 _"How does that concern me?" Barbrey questioned bewildered._

 _"Because his name was Roddy the Right and he was your own son!" The man despaired._

 _"Was?" She asked dreading what answer may come._

 _"Our ship was seized by the Crows Eye and i was taken hostage. I watched as Prince Euron thrust your sons own blade into him. The last time i saw him was when Seamus the Shamed pushed the dying boy overboard into the seas. I cannot be certain that the blow killed him, but it his hard to imagine any man surviving such mortal wounds"_

 _Barbrey began to scream with greif..._

Suddenly she awoke to find herself screaming and clutching at her greying hair. The sickening memories assured her that revenge would be the only course that might soothe her growing heartache. The stench of horse shit filled the room burning her nostrils.

"Come out from the shadow's and let me look upon you" She called into the darkness.

A slight movement caught her attention and Catspaw stepped out from behind a curtain. The candlelight bathed the hooded figure in filthy brown rags . He peeled back his hood revealing his gaunt face and peered at her through deep sunk eyes.

"You have a task for me Mi Lady?" He questioned.

"Yes. Sit" Barbrey demanded as she gestured towards the stool opposite her. Catspaw seated himself uneasily.

"Where would you have me travel this time?" He asked reluctantly.

"Winterfell" She responded bluntly.

"And what could you possibly want me to steal from winterfell?" He asked fearfully.

"A life" She muttered coldly " I assume you still have that pretty dagger that i gifted to you?"

The assassin revealed the glinting Valyrian steel blade from within the cuff of his brown cloak.

"Very Good" Barbrey smirked as she spoke she began to plot in her mind, Partly because of Kian Stark's defiance but mostly because she had waited many years for a moment of vulnerability to take her revenge against Lord Eddard Stark for destroying everything that she had held dear. Now a moment had presented itself, Ned had left Winterfell taking his elite guard with him and she decided she must use it to give Noble Ned a taste of his own bitter medicine.

"You will to take that pretty dagger with you to the home of the Wolf Pack and you will use it to open the throat of the cripple boy, Brandon Stark of Winterfell" She commanded in the coldest tone she could muster.

* * *

After regretfully returning the horse to a disgruntled Hodor, Roddy decided to seek out Lady Catelyn in her Son's chambers to force the memory of the parting from his mind. As he arrived the guard wrapped his knuckles against the door and began to announce his presence.

"Roderick Snow My Lady" He called and waited patiently for a response.

"Enter" A shaky familiar voice called from beyond the door. Roddy pushed the door aside and stepped into the dimly lit room. The large dire wolf at the foot of the bed eyed Roddy cautiously as he moved to Catelyn's side. He looked down upon the peaceful child lying below a heap of animal furs. His disfigurement was covered and only his head was visible so he looked like any regular boy sleeping soundly.

Lady Catelyn was perched on a stool at his bedside. Tear tracks glistened on her cheeks and she sported dark rings around her eyes. She looked to Roddy like she had aged ten years in the space of two days. She gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bed and he obeyed willingly.

"Robb tells me you rushed off in pursuit of the Kingsmen" Catelyn enquired.

"Aye. I thought my role demanded that i should travel to the capital" Roddy muttered miserably.

"And?" Catelyn questioned giving him a concerned look.

"I caught up to Ned and instead of taking me along with him, He caste me aside like the worthless bastard that i am" He replied.

"Roderick you are not worthless! You are as much a part of this family as i am!" She gave him a reassuring smile which settled his misery slightly.

"Did he release you from your vows?" She asked in a hopeful tone.

"Aye" Roddy grunted unable to muster any other response. Suddenly Catelyns expression brightened and she spoke with joy.

"Good! I have begged the man for years to release you from those vows. I curse the day that he heard them in the first place"

"You are to blame for this?" Roderick questioned in disgust.

"Now you listen to me! You were but a year old when you were thrust into my arms. I carried you home in my lap the whole journey back and since that day i have raised and protected you as i did my own children! You grew into a young man with great potential and my husband foolishly agreed to march you off to war out of the reach of my protection. My husband returned to me whole but only a part of the adopted son that departed came home to me. Neither of you spoke on what happened out there and i dared not question for i know that war can leave a man scarred" Her tears had begun to flow again as she spoke and Roddy's anger was quickly replaced by pity.

"Last Year during the Harvest Feast i cornered Lord Greatjon Umber in prayer in the weirwood grove. In the presence of the old gods he told me everything that happened to y-"

Roddy bent to wrap his arms around her in tight embrace before she could finish her sentence. Tears spilled down his cheeks as terrible memories of the war rushed back to him. They grieved together for a moment until Roddy broke the silence.

"You cant blame yourself" He whispered in an attempt to console her.

"I do! I outfitted you like a true northern soldier and i thought you would be invincible. I should never have allowed such a foolish act... You were twelve years old! " Catelyn ranted oblivious to Roddy's attempts.

Suddenly a knock at the door interrupted them and Roddy pulled away from her.

"Maester Lewin and Ser Rodrik Cassell" The guard called.

"Roderick please relieve the guard of his watch and show them in " Catelyn commanded. Roddy reluctantly slinked out of the room and sent the guard away. He pressed his ear against the door once the corridor was clear and he could faintly make out their muffled conversation.

"Ned released him from his vows" Catelyn adressed her advisors.

"Do you mean to send him away?" Ser Rodrik quizzed.

"Of course not!" Catelyn responded bluntly.

"But My Lady our Lord gave me a command" Rodrik argued.

"I mean to keep him safe!" Catelyn argued in response.

"If your intent is to keep him safe then who pray tell can keep him safer than his own?" Rodrik asked in heated tones. When no response came he continued to speak.

"Besides his presence spells trouble. Lady Barbrey believes the boy to be dead. She would call her banners and march on Winterfell in an instant if it became common knowledge that he was being held here"

"Barbrey is a paranoid woman, She would likely brand him as a pretender should he present himself to her" Catelyn uttered ignoring his arguements.

"That is highly unlikely My Lady... The boy looks very similar to Will in his youth" Rodrik continued persistently.

"You would have me send him across the border and just hope for his safety?" Catelyn asked.

"Aye i would. I have stood by all these years and watched as my old friend has been dishonoured by this act of treachery. This can not continue My Lady" He responded sternly.

"I will not send him into her clutches!" Catelyn slammed her fists against the bed as she spoke.

"If i might intervene My Lady , A raven from Torrhens Square just this morning. Lord Helman Tallhart requires a squire after his son recieved his Knighthood" Maester Lewin finally spoke.

"Lord Helman is one of HER prime bannermen" Catelyn reminded him.

"Wrong My Lady" Ser Rodrik exclaimed. " True Lord Helman was one of Will's oldest friends, and true the Lords of Torrhens Square have bowed to The Lord's of Barrowhall for centuries. However the Tallhart's owe no loyalty to the troublesome Ryswell's and that is exactly what Barbrey is in their eyes. I have heard it said Lord Helman refuses to bend the knee to the bitter old hag" After a long pause Catelyn broke the silence once more.

"Can we trust Lord Helman?" She questioned in a tone that signalled her defeat.

"Lord Helman Tallhart is an honorable Northman. I fought alongside him in The Battle of the Bells... He has a daughter around Roderick's age" Ser Rodrik responded with pride.

Roddy froze in shock as he listened to the plans. Ned had caste him aside and now Lady Catelyn was willing to do the same to marry him off to some Tree Girl from the west.

"Very we-" Roderick could hear no more. He forced the door open and bundled into the room cutting Catelyn off in mid sentence.

"Do i not have a say in this?" He demanded forgetting himself. To his suprise the Master-At-Arms submitted instantly.

"Forgive m-" He began to beg but Roddy raised a hand to silence him.

" I am loyal to House Stark the east is my place, not the West" Roddy reminded them coldly

"The West flows through your bloody veins lad , What do you owe to this house?" Rodrik replied sternly.

"I owe everyth-" He began but Lady Catelyn added to the arguement drowned out his voice.

"You owe nothing! You died to defend the honour of this house... In return we have dishonored you. In the East you are just a Bastard named Snow but in the West..."

"You are the rightful heir of a Great Northern Lord" Ser Rodrik finished her sentence for her. Roderick froze in shock once more.

"A Lord..." He questioned as a million thoughts raced through his mind. " Ser Rodrik i beg you, please tell me his name" He asked despairingly.

"I would like nothing more than to sit here with you all night and tell stories of your father, but sadly it is not my place... Lord Helman prehaps" He muttered regretfully. It dawned on Roddy that the only way he would learn news of his heritage would be to travel to the West and meet with this Lord Tallhart in person. Spurred on by this new information, Roddy needed no more convincing, He agreed to the arrangements swiftly and It was planned that he would depart on his journey the following day.

 **Author Note**

 **The Catspaw scene remains the same in the story as it was in the show. I have decided not to cover this part as it would be a shame to alter a great scene and this chapter has gone on long enough already.**

 **Thanks to all for the continued support and i hope you enjoy my story.**


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